Beautiful
by DazzledIn2008
Summary: Bella, new to "the lifestyle," attends a party at dominant Edward Cullen's house, and he shows an interest in her.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All things "Twilight" belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. :)**

**AN: This was a dream I had recently...**

* * *

><p><strong>BEAUTIFUL<strong>

I walked up to the modest two-story house and stood nervously at the front door.

It was a completely unassuming house. You would never know, from the outside, what was going on inside. Or at least, what I _assumed _was going on. The Internet message board said that I should start here, with this house, with this party.

I took a deep breath and knocked. My heart was pounding, a million thoughts racing through my mind. What was I doing here? Could I go through with it? Was this something I truly wanted, or was it just a fleeting distraction? Would they want me? Or would they laugh at me, at my inexperience? _Shit_. What the hell was I doing? I started to turn and run back to my car, but, before I could change my mind, the door swung open, and I saw him for the first time.

"Hello, and welcome," he said with a smile. "I'm Edward Cullen. This is my house. Please, come in." His voice was deep and smooth, confident, charming. I was instantly hypnotized by him, his presence drawing me to him like a magnet.

God, he was gorgeous. Tall and lithe, but imposing. He was older than me, maybe in his thirties, and he was easily the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Wild hair the color of copper. Strong jaw, covered in a day's growth of beard. Pouty upper lip that I wanted to suck between my lips. Deep green eyes with heavy, lusty lids. I couldn't help but wonder what he would look like as he came.

I couldn't turn my eyes from him.

I stepped inside the house, and he moved aside, but just enough for me to pass, so that I had to brush against him. He closed the door and looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to explain my presence in his home. He seem amused.

"Um, hi," I muttered. "I'm Isabella Swan... Bella." I looked down then, to the floor, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

"Beautiful," he said softly. "Come, Isabella," he said as he reached out his hand for mine. "Let me show you around, introduce you to some people."

I took his hand, both terrified and thrilled, and I let him pull me into the house.

As he led me into his large living room, I saw several people standing around talking, groups of three and four, drinks in hand. They all looked extraordinarily normal, not at all what I was expecting. It looked like any other social gathering that I had attended, but as I watched them, I started to notice some small differences. Some of the people weren't speaking - they were quietly standing next to the person they were with, heads down, hands clasped behind their backs. The people they were with were talking to each other, laughing loudly and animatedly.

And then it hit me.

They were _submissives_.

My heart started pounding, and I started biting on my bottom lip, a nervous habit of mine. I had to remind myself that this was what I wanted, why I was here.

It was what I _needed_.

I always felt like something was missing in my life, but I could never put my finger on what it was. Then, I came across a book about a woman who met a man at a party, and he described a life to her that she had never imagined, a life of total submission. He invited her to his home, to his life, and she never looked back.

That book changed my life, opened my mind to a world of possibilities, to the total freedom of giving up all control to someone, to a world that I never dreamed of. But that's all it was for me, a dream.

For months, I did research on the Internet, read everything I could get my hands on, and I planned. I planned what I would wear, what I would say. I imagined what he would look like, the man I would give myself to, and what he would make me do for him. _To _him.

But I never acted on any of it.

Until tonight.

And then I realized that he was speaking to me, Edward Cullen, and I forced myself back to the present.

"So, Isabella," he murmured in my ear. "Who do you belong to?"

He was grinning, a half-smile, only one corner of his mouth turning up. And his voice was like warm butter. I wanted to feel it all over my body, pouring slowly on my skin.

"Um, no one." I was so fucking nervous, and he was so intense. "I'm new. I mean, this is my first time. My first party. I've never done this before." I couldn't seem to put together a cohesive sentence. I was humiliating myself. I should just leave before it got worse.

"Ah." He stepped back, still holding my hand, and ran his eyes over my body, very slowly. "No training, then?"

_Training_. Oh God. I had to keep reminding myself that this was what I wanted.

"No. No training."

He cocked an eyebrow at me.

"No... what?"

I felt the blush creeping up my neck, horrified that I had made a mistake already. I had only been in the house for a couple of minutes, and he was already correcting me.

"No, Sir," I whispered, hoping that was the answer he wanted.

He grinned again, rubbing his thumb slowly across the top of my hand.

"Beautiful," he whispered again. I wondered if he was talking about me. If he thought that _I _was beautiful. There was just no way. I was just an average, twenty-something brunette who blushed when the wind blew too hard.

He turned then and started walking me through the house, introducing me to various people. He would tell me their names and their titles, if they had one... Master Garrett and Kate. Mistress Charlotte and Peter. Everyone was very nice, very... normal.

I could see him watching me, out of the corner of his eye, as I spoke with each person.

Once I had met everyone in the room, I was unsure what I should do next, what was expected of me. I came to this house looking for something, someone, and I thought I'd found what I was looking for the minute he opened the door. There was something about him, about the way he took my hand the minute I walked in the door, how he used his voice, his words to control me. I connected with him immediately, and I felt nothing for any of the others. But I didn't really know how this worked, so I just stood there, still holding his warm hand.

He smiled at me again, and pulled me towards the stairs.

"Come with me, Isabella. Let's talk."

I followed him blindly up the stairs. Jesus, he wasn't going to tie me up or make me do anything, was he? Not yet, at least.

He pulled me into a small, office-like room, and sat in a large leather chair, crossing his legs, settling in. There was only one chair, so I remained standing. I think that might have been the point.

"Close the door, Isabella. And then come back to me."

Fuck, his voice went straight between my legs. I did as he asked, and then stood before him, unsure of what he wanted from me, what I was supposed to do.

"Tell me, Isabella. Are you enjoying yourself so far?"

"Yes. Yes, Sir, I am." I nodded a little too enthusiastically as I spoke, and I had to make myself still my shaking head.

"And did you meet anyone today that you would like to see again?"

I knew what he was asking. He was trying to match me up with a Dom, one of those people downstairs, but the only person I wanted to serve was him. My connection to him was instantaneous and intense, and I didn't want anyone else.

"Yes. I mean, yes Sir. I think I did."

He looked at me, curiously.

"You _think_? Or you _know_? There is quite a difference, Miss Swan, and there is no room for indecision in this lifestyle."

I swallowed hard and bit my lip again. He was staring at my mouth, and I heard him suck in a small breath.

"No, Sir. I mean, yes, Sir. I know. I know who I would like to see again."

"Well, tell me then, Miss Swan. Tell me who you want to serve."

I stood before him, my eyes to the ground, and I told him my desire.

"You, Mr. Cullen," I said. "I think... I mean..." I said as I scrambled to fix this before I completely fucked it up. "I would like to serve you."

He stared at me for several long seconds, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it. Then he smiled widely.

"Beautiful," he whispered. Then he cleared his throat and uncrossed his legs, his thighs spread widely across the width of the large leather chair.

"Come stand before me, Isabella. Right here." His voice was strong and commanding again. "There are a few things about you that I need to know before any decisions are made."

He was pointing to the floor right in front of his chair, right between his legs. Shit, was he going to ask me to go down on him as some sort of test? I knew that this was what I wanted, but I didn't think I was ready for such intimate contact so soon. I knew that I needed to get over that, but I couldn't help my nervousness.

He was waiting for me. He seemed to be patient, but I wasn't sure how long that would last, so I moved to where he asked. He ran his eyes up and down my body again, slowly, like he was memorizing every part of me. It was unnerving and arousing all at the same time.

"Very nice, Isabella. You seem to be naturally submissive. Did you know that?"

I looked up at him, somewhat surprised, and shook my head. I always knew that I wanted this, but it never occurred to me that it was in my nature.

"Let me start with a few basics, some of which you seem to do naturally. Your stance, for example." He gestured to my body, and I started to panic, wondering what I was doing wrong again. "Your feet should always be shoulder width apart, as they are right now. That is very nice, Isabella." He grinned at me. I immediately felt relief that I had pleased him, and I knew that I would do anything he asked just to see him pleased like that again.

"Hands behind your back, clasped together," he said softly, but with complete authority. I immediately complied.

"You naturally cast your eyes down as well. Again, this is exactly what I want from you. Your should never meet my eyes unless I specifically ask you to. Do you understand, Isabella?"

I was relieved, again, that I was doing something correctly, and I stared at the floor, forcing myself not to look up at his beautiful face, wanting desperately to see his pleased expression again.

"Yes, Sir, I understand," I said as I nodded quickly.

"Hmm. That's another thing," he mused, almost to himself. "You have been answering me freely all evening, which is fine, as we currently have no agreement, but you should know..."

God, I wanted to look at him so badly, just to see the expression on his face, to determine his mood, to figure out what the hell he was talking about, if he was waiting for me to say something or not. Instead, I stood quietly and waited, hoping that was the correct thing to do.

I heard him chuckle, and I let out the breath that I hadn't realized I was holding. He wasn't angry with me. He was just testing me, waiting to see if I would speak without provocation, but I didn't - I waited. And he was pleased.

"So fucking hot," he muttered to himself. I was close enough to feel the heat coming off of his body, or at least, that's what I thought it was. I was burning, completely consumed, and becoming increasingly desperate for his touch.

He cleared his throat again.

"As I was saying... you shouldn't speak unless I specifically ask you to speak. I may ask you questions, but I will never want a verbal answer unless I give you permission. Do you understand, Isabella?"

A question. But he didn't tell me to speak, so I nodded, my eyes glued to the ground. He chuckled again.

"You may speak, Isabella."

"Yes, Sir. I understand. Thank you, Sir."

"Beautiful," he muttered to himself again.

"One last thing," he said, in full voice again. "You should always address me with respect: Sir, or later down the line, if appropriate, Master. This is something we have already discussed, something you seem to have adopted very quickly. Very nice."

He was pleased with me again, and I tried very hard not to smile.

"If I decide to take you on, and you agree, there is a considerable amount of paperwork and testing to be done before we would actually begin your training. This lifestyle is not something to enter into lightly, Isabella. Your eyes must be completely open."

I nodded again.

"Yes, well... Again, since we are not yet in agreement, let's say that for the rest of the evening, you have my permission to speak, alright? I think I need to hear what you have to say, your opinion on things..." he said casually, and then his voice changed to a deeper, more throaty tone. Fuck, I wanted to see him. "And I want to hear your lovely voice."

Jesus, what this man did to me already. I was aching for him.

"Yes, Sir."

"Now, before I continue, because I _do _have some questions for you, do you have any questions for me? Now would be the time to ask."

I couldn't think of a single question, other than begging him to fuck me, but I didn't think that was appropriate just yet.

"No, Sir. No questions." I shook my head.

"No?" he said with an amused tone. "Very well. Isabella, there are a few things that I need to know about you before I would even possibly consider training you. Please be completely honest with me, and feel free to tell me no if anything is uncomfortable to you. Remember that these are only requests, we have no contract, and you are free to leave at any time."

He waited for a moment, not speaking, and I wondered if something was required of me, something that I had missed. Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long.

"Do you understand, Isabella?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And do you want to stay here with me and answer my questions?"

"Yes, Sir, I do."

"Very well. One more thing. I want to see your eyes for the remainder of the evening. Look at me, Isabella."

The tone of his voice was commanding, and I wanted to do whatever he asked of me. It felt so natural, instinctive. I raised my head and met his eyes. I had almost forgotten, in just those few minutes, how absolutely beautiful he was, and I had to stifle a small moan.

"Don't hold back, Isabella. If something pleases you, let me hear you," he said with that small cocky grin. "Tell me, what made you moan so softly just now?"

Fuck, he heard me. I was starting to realize that nothing got past this man. He could see right through me. How was I going to tell him that he was so fucking beautiful that his physical presence alone aroused me?

I looked into his deep green eyes, a deeper, darker color now, and steeled myself to answer him, honestly, as he had requested of me.

"Um... I..." I stuttered and mumbled, trying to get the words out somehow.

"Speak up, Isabella. I asked you a question, and I expect an immediate and honest answer. If we can't get past this small thing, there is no reason to continue."

Jesus, was he going to dismiss me? I couldn't let that happen. I wanted him so badly, wanted to please him, and I couldn't imagine myself serving anyone else in this way.

"Yes, Sir," I said quickly. I wanted to make sure that he knew that I wanted to be here, with him. "I'm sorry, Sir." Deep breath. "I moaned just now because your... um...beauty, it caught me off guard after looking down for so long."

He said nothing for several seconds, and I was about to panic, when suddenly, he threw his head back and laughed heartily.

"My _beauty_?" he chuckled again. "Well, that's new. But honest, which I appreciate... and I _require_. Thank you, Isabella." He sat thoughtfully for several seconds. "Now, the next thing I need to know about you is this: can you submit to me sexually, completely trust me with every part of your body?"

He paused for a moment, letting that sink in. I swallowed hard and waited for him to continue, anxious to see exactly how he would administer this particular test. I knew in my head that this would be a major component of this relationship, but the reality of it might be something else entirely.

"Your orgasms, every single one of them, will belong to me. Whether you are with me, or alone. Do you understand what I mean by that, Isabella? This is a very important point, and I need to make sure we are completely clear."

Hearing the word "orgasm" come out of that beautiful mouth, and I was done for. The blush  
>that I tried so hard to control flamed across my skin. I could feel the heat of it as my face burned bright red.<p>

"Ah," he moaned softly. "That color is beautiful on your skin. I can't wait to see how it will look when I …" He trailed off, not completing his thought, and I was now desperate to know what he was going to say, what he was thinking about doing to me. He took a deep breath and continued.

"I'm still waiting, Isabella. For an answer to my question."

Question? What question did he ask me. Fuck, what did he ask me? Wait. Orgasms. That's when I completely lost my train of thought. He wanted to know if I understood that he owned my orgasms.

I hadn't had an orgasm in months, so I didn't think this would be a problem. And I thought I understood what he meant, but I wasn't entirely sure. I didn't want to disappoint him, so I answered quickly.

"Yes, Sir. I understand."

"Yes? Hmm. Very interesting. Now, my lovely, I would like you to raise that pretty skirt that you are wearing, and show me what you have underneath."

What? He wanted me to pull up my skirt? Oh my God, this is it. This is the point when I decide to stay or run out the door. But I couldn't imagine leaving him. I was already in so deep.

So I did it.

I stood before him, my eyes locked on his, and I slowly raised up my skirt. I didn't know how high he wanted me to go, so I kept lifting it, waiting for his response.

When the hem of my skirt reached my hips, I started to panic, but I kept going, my heart pounding. I was wearing my special panties, thank God, the black lace ones that I got at Victoria Secret for special occasions. They had been sitting at the back of my underwear drawer, never used until today.

I kept lifting the material until it was at my waist, and he grinned at me.

"Very nice, Isabella. Very pretty panties you have on. Tell me, did you wear them tonight for any specific reason?"

The blush burned brighter on my face, but I knew I had to answer him honestly, and quickly.

"Yes, Sir, I did."

"And?"

I took a deep breath.

"I wore them tonight, in case..." Oh God, I couldn't finish. This was humiliating.

"In case what, Isabella?" His tone had changed slightly. I think he was losing patience with me, I wasn't answering him quickly enough. I knew that I had to give myself to him honestly and completely, that I had to trust him implicitly, with every aspect of myself, but I didn't expect to have to do that tonight.

But I wanted him. So fucking badly.

"In case I met someone that I wanted a relationship with and... something happened." Fuck, I knew I had to be more specific. "In case I had to remove my clothes and have sex with someone."

He was quiet, but he had that small grin on his face again. I think he was pleased with me.

"Very good, Isabella. Now... take them off."

It wasn't a question. An answer wasn't required, but action was. And I knew he wanted me to be quick about it. No hesitation. Complete trust. I could do this.

I slipped my fingers into the sides of my underwear and slowly slid them off of my hips, past my thighs, and then onto the floor. I stepped out of them, and pushed them to the side.

I was now completely exposed to him. Naked from the waist down. I had waxed myself bare only a few days ago, in anticipation of this night, and it made me feel even more... unprotected. I took another deep breath and tried to calm myself.

His eyes were burning across my skin, boring into my naked body. I needed him to touch me so badly, but I couldn't ask for that. Not tonight. Not now.

"Very good, Isabella." He took a deep breath and met my eyes. "As I said earlier, I need to know, tonight, if you can completely give yourself to me."

Yes, he said that, and yes, I agreed. So what did he want now?

He held out his hand to me.

"I would like you to take my hand, for balance." Balance? What was I doing? I decided that I had to trust him, that I _needed _to trust him, so I gave him my hand.

"Now lift your left leg and put your foot up here, on this arm rest." He patted the arm rest next to him, on the big leather chair.

He wanted me to open myself up to him, in more ways than one. I knew this was only the beginning. That I would have to expose myself completely, in every way, if I had one of these relationships, so I did it. I held onto his hand and brought my leg up to the side of the chair. I wobbled a little, and he held me tightly, securely. Once I had regained my balance, I dropped his hand, assuming that was what he wanted.

I was now naked and spread open for him, his face only inches from my bare, open sex. And I was wet and aching. I knew he could see it, that he could tell how much I wanted him. My face burned.

He leaned forward in his chair, so close to me now, but not nearly close enough. He looked up from between my legs and met my eyes.

"Very nice, Isabella. You are quite beautiful, you know. _All _of you." He gestured to my crotch, and the blush burned brighter on my face. "I like that you are bare, but it makes me wonder why you did that. Tell me."

Okay, I had basically answered this question before. It was the same as the panties. I was trying to be prepared. In case. So I answered him.

"It was... in case." Suck it up. Tell him. "In case I met someone tonight and had sex."

There. I said it. Quickly, just like he wanted it.

He grinned widely.

"Ah. Lovely. That was very nice, Isabella. You are getting quite good at this."

I beamed with pride. He said I was good. He was pleased. I couldn't explain why this made me so happy. I had just met this man, but I felt as if my world revolved around him already, that his happiness was all that mattered.

"Now, I have a request. Again, you are free to deny me, as we have no contract, but I would like to find out a little more about you."

He didn't tell me yet what he wanted, and there was still no question, so I kept my stance and waited.

"I would like to touch you, Isabella. _Intimately_." His green eyes had turned dark, his pupils wide with arousal, and it was almost feral and wild. I could feel his desire for me, it was magnetic, and I couldn't wait for him to have his hands on me.

"Would you like that, Isabella?" His voice was low and deep, almost a growl. "Would you like me to touch you?"

"Y-Yes, Sir. I would like that... _Please_." I whispered the last word, my voice giving out on me, barely able to speak.

He looked deeply in my eyes, and he must have found what he was looking for, because the next thing I knew, I felt his hands on my legs, just his fingertips, lightly brushing up the sides of my legs, my calves, my knees, my thighs. Everywhere he touched me, it burned. I thought I would explode waiting for him to touch me where I needed him.

Then I felt it. His hand between my legs, his finger sliding between the lips of my pussy. I gasped.

"Yes, my lovely. Let me hear you. Don't hold back."

His finger slid easily, slowly up and down, slick with my desire for him.

Then, he brushed across my clit, and I couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Oh fuck..." I moaned.

"Mmm, yes. I love your voice, tell me more. Tell me how I make you feel."

How he made me feel? Jesus fucking Christ, if he only knew.

He rubbed circles around my clit and slowly down, slipping easily inside me, then back out, circling my clit again, teasing me. I wanted to thrust my hips towards him, to beg him to fuck me with his finger, anything, I just needed him to keep touching me.

"God, yes... oh... that feels so good... Sir... please..."

"Please, what, my lovely?"

What was he looking for? Did I say something incorrectly? No, I think he wanted to know why I said please.

"Please keep touching me. Please make me come with your finger, Sir... please." I was so fucking desperate now. I needed him so badly.

"Ah yes... you sound so fucking hot when you beg me."

He rubbed his finger back up to my clit now, and used his other hand to slip two fingers inside me, curling up and hitting me just right. It was like electricity through my body, and I moaned loudly.

"Yes, Isabella... let me hear you," His voice was like a drug to me, I was addicted, and I needed more. He increased the pressure with his hand, and I thought I might explode, it felt so fucking good. My hips moved with him, silently begging for more.

"I realize that, right now, you have no control, and that is something we will work on. So for tonight, you may come when you are ready."

Oh, God, he wanted me to come for him. And I was so close, it wouldn't take much for me to totally lose it.

"Are you close, my lovely? Tell me." His fingers slipped and pulled, and I could feel it in my stomach, that burning.

"God yes, Sir. I'm close... almost... please..." My eyes closed and my head fell back, waiting for the giant wave of pleasure to crash over me.

And then it was gone. The feeling stopped. I opened my eyes and looked at him. He had stopped touching me, his hands were gone.

He laughed, a low, deep chuckle as he sat back in his chair.

"I _did _say that I would allow it, Isabella, but I didn't say _when_."

Then, he lifted his fingers to his lips, still wet from my arousal, and he tasted me. That was the hottest fucking thing I had ever seen.

"Mmm. Delicious," he moaned softly. "So sweet. I can't wait to bury my face in there and hear you beg me to come."

Holy fuck. This man was killing me.

"Come, lets go downstairs and mingle." Then he gave me his hand.

_Downstairs_? Was he fucking kidding me? I was seconds away from the most powerful orgasm of my life, and he wanted me to socialize? I was soaking wet and throbbing. I have never been so aroused in my entire life.

But I wanted this. I wanted _him_. So I grabbed his hand and put my leg back on the floor. I started to reach down for my panties, and he stopped me.

"No no, Isabella. Leave them there. I want you bare underneath your skirt when we go downstairs."

Oh my God.

I straightened my skirt, pulling it down as far as it could go, and we walked down the stairs. He held my hand the entire time, and it felt _good _to me. It felt like he wanted me, protected me, like he was marking his territory, telling everyone that I belonged to him. I liked the way that felt. I wanted to be _his_.

We wandered around the house, making small talk, and he was right behind me the entire time. His hand held mine tightly, and he never left my side. I couldn't concentrate.

Then, I felt his mouth at my ear.

"Do you think they know, Isabella?" he whispered. "Know what I was doing to you just now? Do you think they know I had my fingers buried in that warm, sweet pussy of yours?"

Oh, God his voice. And what he was asking me. He was driving me insane. Did he want an answer? It was a question, but I didn't know what to say.

So I moaned.

He brought his fingers to his face.

"Mmm... I can still smell you on my fingers, Isabella. Do you think they can smell you, sweet girl? Smell how wet you are for me right now?"

I nodded slowly. I leaned back against him for strength, my knees weak and crumbling. Jesus, I needed this man. I needed him so much already.

"Are you ready, Isabella?" he whispered in my ear. "Ready to go back upstairs with me?"

Oh, thank God. Yes, please. Take me upstairs. I would do anything. But he asked a question. A real question, not one of those teasing things he was doing earlier, the questions that burned through my body and settled between my legs. I remember reading about this lifestyle and what my answer should be.

"God, yes - " I started, but quickly corrected myself. "I mean, whatever pleases you, Sir." I thought that was the answer he wanted. I was supposed to do whatever he wanted, whatever made him happy, and that would make _me _happy.

"Whatever pleases me?" he answered in a low, growling whisper. "Whatever _pleases _me, Isabella?" He laughed sharply. "There are so many ways you can please me, so many ways that I can fuck you... I hope you know what you're saying, little girl." His hands were on my upper arms now, gripping tightly. I could feel his warm breath on my neck, and I was spinning, dizzy with need.

"P-Please, Sir," I begged him. "Please take me back upstairs. _Please_."

He rubbed his hands up and down my arms, his lips brushing lightly across my neck.

"Ah, that sounds nice. _Beg me_, Isabella," he growled. "_Beg me_to take you upstairs."

Oh fuck. Yes, this was it. This was what I wanted, what I needed. I was drowning in it, and I didn't want to be rescued.

"Please, Sir. Oh God... _please_... _please _take me upstairs, and … make me come." I was so desperate, so out of control.

"Mmm... I love the tone of your voice when you beg. I can't fucking wait to hear you scream for me." Jesus, he wanted to make me _scream_. I could only imagine the things that he would do to me that would make me scream and how he could make me feel. I was so hungry for it, hungry to give myself up to him completely.

He grabbed my hand again and pulled me quickly towards the stairs. I followed willingly, desperate and wanton.

Once we reached the room, he sat back in the same leather chair and waited.

"Close the door, Isabella. And come to me."

Everything he said, every word, it seemed to be constructed carefully. Every word had specific meaning, purpose, weight. His voice, his words... they aroused me as much as his touch. I wondered if I could come just from listening to him.

I closed the door and walked back to him, sitting in the chair. I stood before him, between his legs, as I was earlier. He grinned and gave me his hand, for balance. This time, I knew.

I lifted my leg and placed my foot back on the armrest, pulling my skirt up to my waist, presenting myself to him. And fuck, I loved the way that felt.

"Lovely," he moaned softly.

His fingers were immediately back between my legs, stroking me, fucking me, and it felt so damned good. I moaned loudly, as I knew he wanted, and I pushed my hips towards him, begging silently for more.

"Come for me, my sweet Isabella. Let me hear you, hear what I do to you."

His hands never stopped, working me expertly, bringing me to that edge. I felt it, in my stomach again, the ache. It started to spread, and then it happened.

I exploded.

"Oh fuck... I'm... I'm coming..._fuck_..._yes_..."

It seemed to last forever, this all-encompassing feeling. I had never come so hard in my life. My legs were weak, and I could barely keep my eyes open. I wanted to collapse on the floor, and just revel in this amazing feeling. But he was waiting on me. Waiting for me to say something.

"Mmm... thank you... Sir..."

He removed his hands from me and sat back in his chair with a grin.

"Beautiful," he whispered contentedly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: My dream? It was the part with her foot and the chair. So, yeah...<strong>

**Hope you liked! Let me know if you did, one way or another, via reviews (hint, hint). I may continue the story, haven't decided yet. Depends on the demand.**

**Thanks to Mabarbarella and LibbyLou862 for their opinions, beta skills, and their fabulousness! Love you both!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: All things "Twilight" belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. :)**

**Author Notes at the end.**

* * *

><p><strong>BEAUTIFUL, Chapter 2<strong>

"Give me your hand, Isabella."

She was still standing in front of me, naked from the waist down, swollen and wet from the orgasm I had just given her. The first of many, I hoped, but just this one, a gift.

I had just met her, but I already felt a connection with her, an intense connection, more of a need than a want. I knew that I had to have her and that I wanted no one else to ever be allowed to touch her. Well, not unless I was there to watch, of course.

She looked at me, a beautiful, satisfied grin on her face, and gave me her hand without question. She was amazingly responsive for being so new, so untrained. I couldn't wait to teach her the pleasures of submission, to be her first Master.

If, of course, she wanted me. There was still so much to be discussed, negotiated.

I held her hand tightly and realized that I never wanted to let it go.

"Put your leg back down now, Isabella," I said gently. I wanted her to know how pleased I was with her, that I was not angry by dismissing her.

She put her leg back on the ground, and I pulled her skirt back down, smoothing it into place, stroking her a little more than necessary. But I couldn't seem to keep my hands from her. I wanted to touch her, to always be touching her.

I stood from my leather chair, and brought her hand to my lips. I met her gaze, her beautiful brown eyes, and kissed her hand softly.

"Thank you," I whispered. She looked confused, wondering why I, as a Dom, would be thanking a submissive. "For giving yourself to me tonight. You didn't have to, and I am so pleased that you would honor me with such a gift." She knew nothing about the dynamics of these relationships, and I wanted her to know that she would have a considerable amount of power, that she had a say in how things would go.

"And as much as I would love to spend the entire night right here, with you, making you come for me over and over," and she blushed as I said that, "I know that it's time to say goodbye."

Her face dropped, a look of panic overtaking her face. She started to speak, to object, and I immediately realized my mistake. Damn, what this girl did to me. Already.

"No, no, Isabella. I'm sorry... Not 'goodbye.'" I smiled. "Just good_night._" I waited a moment to see if she understood. Her expression had not changed yet. At least, not sufficiently for me. So I continued. I took a deep breath.

"I would love to see you again, if you would be interested."

There. It was out there. I said it. But in retrospect, it sounded like I was asking her for a date. And what I wanted from her was considerably different, so I needed to quickly correct myself before she completely misunderstood.

"If you would like to proceed, that is, we would need to get together and start going over your paperwork. As I mentioned earlier, there is much that would need to be discussed before I could take you on as my sub." My sub. _Mine_. Fuck, that sounded good. Isabella, mine to do with as I pleased. Available to me, to do whatever I asked. Shit, I was getting hard again. It was time to wrap this up.

She stood, still letting me hold her warm, soft hand, not speaking. But the panic had left her face, and she had the tiniest of smiles on her lips.

"Would you like that, Isabella? Would you like to meet with me to proceed?"

"Yes, Sir. I would like that... very much," she said as a warm blush creeped up her neck.

Why she was blushing now, after what we had just done, by simply agreeing to meet with me, I would never know. But I loved it, and I decided that it was a good thing, that it showed the honesty of her words. That she truly wanted to see me again, to discuss forming a relationship with me.

I was thrilled. Fucking _elated_. Never before had a sub affected me like this, but I could think about that later, after she was gone. For now, I had to assume my role, be what she expected me to be.

"Very well then." I moved towards the door, and pulled her gently along with me, never letting go of her tiny hand.

We walked down the stairs, and I immediately noticed the silence. I quickly looked around the room and saw that all of my guests had gone, let themselves out. Not my best job as host, but I didn't really care. What I was doing, where I was, was more important to me tonight. They would have understood that, which is probably why they all left quietly.

Isabella must have noticed as well, but she didn't say a word about it. That girl had amazing instincts, and I couldn't wait to explore that in much greater detail.

We reached the door, and I held it open for her.

"May I have your cell phone?" She looked at me for a moment, curiously, maybe a little concerned that I wanted to confiscate it for some reason unknown to her, and I had to chuckle. "I will give it right back to you, Isabella," I assured her. "I want to send myself a text message, so I will have your number, for the future. I'll send you a message about setting up our meeting."

She looked nervous for a moment, almost guilty, like she had committed some error that I hadn't yet noticed. She looked to the ground for a moment, then remembered my previous request about meeting my eyes, and looked back up.

"Um... I don't have it. With me, I mean." She cleared her throat, and started again. "It's outside... in my truck."

Truck? This petite, hesitant girl drove a truck? She continued to mystify me. And why did she think I would be upset about this? It only made me desire her more, for some curious reason.

I smiled, hopefully putting her at ease.

"Well, then, let me escort you to your truck, and you can get it for me." I let her lead this time, and she tightened her grip on mine, which only served to make my already hard cock even harder, and we walked outside to her vehicle.

She was parked a little ways down the street, since she had been late in arriving, and it must have been hard to find a parking place.

Her truck was old, really old. A 1950's model maybe. The paint a faded and rusted red.

She pulled a single key out of the slim pocket of her skirt, and I had an immediate flash of memory of that skirt, slowly sliding up her thighs. And what she was hiding underneath. She was probably still wet. Fuck, get a grip, Cullen.

She opened the truck door, reaching in for her purse, and pulled out her phone. Then she handed it to me, without question, the most innocent, hopeful look on her face. It was breathtaking, the trust she had already placed in me.

Seriously, I felt like I couldn't breathe for a moment, and she was just standing there, her hand outstretched, holding her phone, waiting for me to take it.

I realized what I must have looked like, and I shook myself out of the fog she had me in, taking the phone from her hand.

I quickly sent myself a text message, thrilled that I would now have her number, a direct line to her, and that she _wanted _me to contact her. I couldn't wait to go back into the house and start planning.

I quickly checked my phone to make sure I had received it, which I had, but unfortunately, that concluded our business for the evening. It was time for her to leave.

That bothered me, for reasons that I could not fathom, but I consoled myself with the thought that she wanted to see me again, to discuss a further relationship. She wanted to be mine, she had told me as much. I only hoped she would still want me as much after I went through everything with her, that it wouldn't scare her off. But I would go slowly, easing her in...

She had spoken to me, but I hadn't heard her. She was looking at me expectantly. At her phone in my hand.

"Your phone. Yes, here it is. Thank you." What the fuck was I doing? "I'll be in touch." I rubbed my thumb across the top of her hand again, feeling the softness, the warmth, the fucking _electricity, _for the last time... well, for tonight at least. And I let her go. "Goodnight, Isabella."

She smiled and blushed, one last time. It was like she knew I needed to see that beautiful color one more time.

"Goodnight, Mr. Cullen." She climbed into her truck, started the engine, and reached for the door to shut it. Then she turned to me, almost as an afterthought. "I had a good time tonight." More blushing. "I look forward to our next meeting." And then she smiled, closed the door, and drove away.

I stood there, for several moments, watching her truck disappear down the street. She had called me "Mr. Cullen." God, that sounded fucking amazing, hearing that coming from her lips. I wondered briefly how it would sound when - and _if _- she ever called me "Master." Images, unbidden, appeared in my head... Isabella, naked, on her knees before me... Isabella, hands bound behind her back, mouth open, waiting... Isabella, her lips wrapped around my hard cock...

I was straining in my pants, and I quickly adjusted myself, standing alone on the sidewalk outside my house. She was gone, and I needed to control myself. After all, that's what I was, if nothing else. I was the master of control. That was everything to me.

I walked back into my house and closed the door.

* * *

><p>Every single day after our first meeting, I thought about sending her that text message, but I knew I needed to wait, to not seem so anxious. I needed to have the upper hand. It was expected of me, and it was what she wanted, what she needed. It was why she came to my party, it was why she chose me.<p>

But I thought about her. A _lot_.

I waited until Thursday, and I sent her the message that I had rewritten seemingly hundreds of times since our meeting. In the end, I decided that keeping it simple was the best way to proceed.

_**Friday, 3pm. 900 N 3rd, downtown, Suite 900. E. A. Cullen.**_

I thought about adding something about being prompt, but I decided to leave that up to her, to see what she would do.

I put the phone back in my pocket, assuming that it might be a while before I heard back from her, if at all, but it buzzed against my thigh immediately.

I looked at the front of the phone, and saw her name, _**Isabella Swan**_. I had saved her number to my contacts that first night. I immediately clicked on the message to open it, hoping.

_**Yes, Sir.**_

Two simple words, but they said so much to me. _**Yes**_, she wanted to meet with me, and _**Sir**_, she wanted to please me, to show her respect. She was still interested in pursuing a relationship. I sent one more message.

_**Send me your email address. I have documents to send to you.**_

Again, she replied immediately.

I saved the address to my contacts and sent her a BDSM checklist, instructing her to print it, fill it out, and bring it with her to our meeting. In addition to being a necessary part of our relationship negotiation, it would also give her quite a lot to think about. She wouldn't know what my likes and dislikes were when she was filling out _her _list, but it would open her eyes to all of the possibilities. If this was something she wasn't serious about, just reading an empty checklist might be enough to discourage her.

I also set up an appointment for her for a physical with a doctor friend of mine. I needed clean test results before I proceeded any further. He would process the tests quickly.

She replied with a quick "thank you," and I was once again thrilled with her quick response.

* * *

><p>I only had to wait until the next day, but it seemed like forever. I sat in my office and went over my paperwork for the thousandth time, going over every detail, wanting to make sure everything was clear and perfect.<p>

I had a lot to explain to her. I was a very particular type of Dom, with very particular interests. Likes and dislikes. I needed to make sure that it would be okay with her. Maybe I wouldn't be what she needed. Maybe she needed more than I could give, more than I wanted to give.

There were over 300 items on the checklist, and as I read over them again, I couldn't help imagining doing these things with Isabella. I had been a Dom for almost 15 years now, I was very experienced, and I knew exactly what I liked and what I didn't. And even so, there were several items on this list that I had never tried and never would.

_Anal sex, plugs, dildos_... yes.

_Menstrual sex, caging, mummification_... no.

Filling out the lists would give us a good jumping off point for discussion, and I would be able to tell a lot about her from what she did and said, her reactions. Equally as important would be her reaction to _my _list. This was, after all, a mutually agreed upon relationship. Or would be. Hopefully.

_Oral sex, hair pulling, light spanking._.. yes.

Fuck, this was getting me hard again. I moved my hand between my legs to readjust myself, but kept my hand there as I continued to read. And fantasized about Isabella...

_Branding, enemas, humiliation_... no.

_Exhibitionism, public sex, sex with other partners_... yes.

I thought about Isabella at my party, naked underneath her skirt, and how aroused she was as I whispered in her ear. I think she might like showing off a little. I thought about bringing her to a bar, lifting her skirt as she sat, waiting and watching until someone noticed. Touching her, making her come for an audience.

I unbuttoned my pants and lowered the zipper, slipping my hand inside my boxers. Isabella would be here in just a few hours, but I couldn't help myself.

_Leash leading, gags, cutting_... no.

_Orgasm control, rimming, light bondage_... yes.

Ah, fuck, yes. Isabella denied her orgasm, completely at my mercy. Bound to my bed and edged for hours. She would beg, and plead, and scream until I gave her what she wanted. Which I would, of course, eventually, and after she brought me to orgasm several times.

I couldn't fucking _wait _to hear her scream.

I stroked my cock harder and faster as I worked my way through the list.

_Brown/yellow showers, needles, fisting_... no.

_Kneeling, same sex partners, vibrators_... yes.

Isabella, naked, kneeling beside my chair. Sucking the cock of my guest while I watched. Or, her face buried between the legs of a woman of my choosing while I directed and filmed her for us to watch together later.

Fuck, that did it. I exploded in my hand, and thankfully managed to catch most of my release. I cleaned myself up and put the lists away. It would do me no good to continue to obsess. I had done my homework, I was ready.

* * *

><p>At five minutes to three, my secretary, Jessica, rang to let me know that "a Ms. Swan" was here to see me, and that she didn't have an appointment. Yes, Jessica, she did, but it wasn't your business. I told her to send Ms. Swan in.<p>

As she walked in the door, I was again struck by her delicate beauty, and my unexplainable, undeniable attraction to her. I stood and walked to meet her at the door.

"Isabella," I said warmly, my hand outstretched to her. "I'm so glad you came."

She looked hesitant, again, a little nervous, but she gave me her hand, which I shook firmly, and held a little longer than I should have.

"Thank you for inviting me," she said softly, and then, before I could chastise her for her mistake, she quickly added, "Sir."

"You are quite welcome." If she only knew. "Please, have a seat."

I directed her, not to the guest chair in front of my desk, but to my small conference table. We needed to sit and discuss as equals, and I didn't want the barrier of a desk between us. I even sat next to her at the side of the table, not at the head, wanting to be as close to her as possible. We both knew who was in control here, and I didn't need to resort to petty symbolism.

She sat in the chair with her hands folded on the table, which was fine, but then she crossed her legs. I would have to deal with that, but later. I didn't want to tease her with rules, like I did at the party. Not yet, at least.

I knew I had to take the lead, that I was the experienced one here, so I spoke first.

"So, I assume by your presence here today that you have thought about everything I said the other night, and that you are interested in proceeding with me?"

"Yes, Sir, I am."

"And you enjoyed what we did that night? No second thoughts? Nothing that bothered you?"

"No, Sir. I mean, yes, Sir, I enjoyed what we did, no second thoughts." And she blushed brightly.

So she liked it. But it embarrassed her to talk about it. Well, she would have to get over that. Because we would do a lot of talking. Dirty, dirty talking. I wanted to explore that more, to make her talk about what she liked, but we had business to discuss.

"Very well," I said. "Let's start with the checklists. I assume you filled yours out and brought it with you as I asked?"

"Yes, Sir," she lifted her set of papers, showing it to me. I was so anxious to see her answers, I wanted to grab them out of her hand. But I didn't.

Instead, I smiled graciously.

"Very good, Isabella. Let's take a look."

She handed me her list, and I took my time going over it, analyzing every answer to every question, balancing them with my own. Isabella sat quietly and waited.

She was inexperienced, that I knew, but seeing it written in black and white, in full detail in front of me, well, it was a little jarring. She had only checked a few items as "experienced." But interestingly, there were several things that she was interested in trying, and a large number of her hard limits lined up surprisingly close to my own.

She had also given me her medical paperwork, the results from her physical. She was healthy and free from disease, which was excellent news. I hated using condoms, and this, combined with her use of birth control pills, which was also documented, would give us that freedom.

"Um, may I ask a question, Mr. Cullen?" she asked, breaking the overwhelming silence in the room. I looked up from her checklist reluctantly. There was so much more I wanted to know about her, but answering her questions might reveal even more.

"Yes, of course, Isabella." I set her list down on the table to give her my undivided attention.

She looked slightly nervous, which amused me to a certain extent, my curiosity growing about her pending line of questioning. She seemed to gather a small bit of resolve, and spoke.

"This office... this building." She played absently with the hem of her skirt, and I found myself staring at the creamy, bare skin of her legs, no stockings. If I were to touch her leg, her calf, her thigh, there would be no barrier between us. I forced myself back to her eyes. "The front of the building, it said it was the _Cullen Building._"

"Yes," I answered gently, still unsure of her direction, encouraging her to continue.

"This is your building? I mean, you own it?" Then she bit her lip. Just for a second, but she pulled that plump bottom lip, for a brief moment, between her teeth, and I saw the tiniest flash of her pink tongue as she closed her lips. Fuck.

"Yes, I own this building. Why do you ask?" I was wondering why she wanted to know, why this would matter to her.

She paused again briefly. She seemed to process each answer and then devise each question on the spot. This interested me for some reason. She was able to make decisions on the fly, think on her feet.

"The house, the other night. Where you had the party." She blushed again and looked down at her hands. "It was a … a _modest _house, not where I would assume someone of your... um... means... would live."

Ah, this girl. I loved that she questioned me like this, at least for now. I cocked an eyebrow at her, letting her know that this level of forwardness, which was acceptable for now, would not always be allowed. I leaned forward a bit in my chair, lowering my voice. I wanted to change the tone slightly, but not too drastically.

"I use that house strictly for play parties, Isabella." I brought a finger under her chin and lifted her face so that her eyes met mine. "I like to keep my private life, very, _very _private. Only my collared subs are allowed inside my home." She blinked a few times, swallowing hard at the mention of the word "collared."

"Any other questions?" I asked with a smirk. My finger was still under her chin. I didn't want her to look away from me just yet. She shook her head slightly. "No? Very well, let's continue."

I stroked the soft skin of her cheek before lowering my hand, then I settled back in my chair and crossed my legs comfortably.

"We will go through each item on these checklists in some detail, but first, there are a few things I would like to explain." She nodded tentatively.

"I am not your average Dom, Isabella. I've been doing this for a number of years, and I know exactly what I like and what I need from my subs. I know you are new to this, and you may not be exactly sure what you're looking for at this point, so I feel that it is incumbent upon me to tell you more about myself. Then, if you are still interested, we continue on to the checklists. All right?"

"Yes, Sir," she said with a slight nod.

"My particular interests lie in control and obedience. I have absolutely no desire for humiliation, pain, beating, or intense bondage." I paused for a moment to let that sink in. What I had just mentioned was considerably differently from most of the Doms currently practicing in our area, and if this was what she was interested in, she needed to know now that I was not the person to provide them to her.

She sat quietly, no discernible reaction. Not even her telltale blush.

"I will, however, require your complete and absolute obedience. I will require absolute loyalty and monogamy. And," I paused here for effect, because this was often a deal breaker. "I require you to be available to me at all times. Twenty four hours a day. Seven days a week."

I watched her closely, looking for some sort of reaction, a response, an indication of her leanings. Her breathing seemed to increase in pace just slightly, and her lips parted just enough to be interesting. Her chest and neck were slightly flushed, as well.

She was aroused. She liked it. She wanted it. She wanted _me_.

Fucking hell. Could this possibly work out? Would she be mine one day? _Today_?

"You will have some personal time to yourself during the course of each week, along with several standing appointments which are part of my requirements. The gym, the salon - for manicures, pedicures, and waxing. Of course, these are _my _rules, and I can change them at any time of my choosing." I brought my hand back to her face and slowly stroked her pouty bottom lip with my thumb. "For example, if I decide that I want my cock in that beautiful mouth of yours," I said as I slid my thumb just inside her mouth, "you will drop whatever you are doing and immediately accommodate me."

She groaned softly, so softly I almost didn't hear it, but I was so exceptionally tuned into her already that I noticed every tiny change.

"Would you like that, Isabella?" My voice deepened with my growing desire for her. "Hmm? Would you like to feel just what you do to me, my hard cock sliding between those beautiful, plump lips?" Her tongue moved slightly against my thumb, still inside her mouth, and my cock twitched in my pants, aching to touch her in any way it could.

"How would that make you feel, Isabella, my sweet girl?" I groaned in her ear. "On your knees before me, your willing and hungry mouth open and waiting to serve your Master... Would that arouse you, make you wet, aching for me like you were the other night? I think I might like to see that... actually, I think I would like to see that r_ight now_."

I pulled my hand away from her mouth and waited, waited to see if she would immediately follow my command. But she didn't. She hesitated. I don't think she knew if I was entirely serious or not.

"_Isabella_," I said in a stern voice, snapping her out of her paralysis. "What did I _just _say about absolute obedience? I don't like to repeat myself. On your knees in front of me. _Now_."

She paused only for a second this time, processing the reality of the situation, of my command, and she immediately fell to the floor in front of my chair. Her natural inclinations, being what they were, cast her eyes to the ground. Out of respect, fear, or shame, I wasn't sure, but I liked it, no matter the reason.

However, I wanted to see her eyes again.

"Look at me, Isabella."

She looked up from her kneeling position and met my eyes. The most beautiful fucking thing I had ever seen.

"Now, open that pretty little mouth of yours for me. Show me how ready you are to receive my cock."

She blinked only once and then parted her lips, growing slowly wider, until she was obscenely open for me. I wanted nothing more than to grab her hair and fuck her mouth, _hard_, but that would have to wait.

I let her stay in that position for several seconds, just watching her, building her anticipation. I wanted her to feel vulnerable, to not know what was coming, but to trust that I would take care of her and give her what she needed. She would learn, in time, to trust me implicitly, blindly, completely.

"How does that feel, Isabella? Waiting to serve me, anticipating my taste in your mouth. Hungry for me yet, my lovely?" I chuckled.

She groaned again, so softly, her eyes growing heavy with lust, her chest heaving. She was almost where I needed her to be. So I quickly changed direction.

"You may sit again." I wanted to keep her off balance, not knowing what to expect.

She took a shaky breath, and returned slowly to her chair. Was she disappointed? Did she truly think that I would order her to fellate me before we had reached a mutual agreement?

I noticed that, as she sat back in the chair, she recrossed her legs under the table. I was going to have to deal with this momentarily. All things in due course.

"As I was saying, 24-hours a day, 7-days a week. This will mean that, if you currently work for a living, you will have to resign, and dedicate yourself completely to me. I will, of course, cover all of your expenses, and you will have a generous spending allowance as well. You will want for nothing, materially, that is."

"Will this be a problem?" I asked.

"No, Sir," she replied softly. I wasn't sure if she was currently unemployed, or if she was just that willing to give it all up for me, but either scenario worked for me.

"I have living quarters for you as well, which I greatly prefer that you take advantage of. It's much more of a convenience for both of us if you are close by when I need you." I waited for her to disagree in some fashion, but she remained silent. Amazing. "There is a small apartment downstairs in this building. I'll want you there during my work hours. I also have guest quarters in my home - my _real _home," I said with a slight grin, referring back to her earlier question, "which is where you will live the remainder of the time."

"Is this agreeable, Isabella?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied softly. I had to wonder, was there anything that she would _not _agree with? Was she just trying to give me answers that I wanted to hear, or were these truly her feelings?

"Very good. One last item of business, and then we will return to the checklists. I travel quite a bit for business and will require you to come with me on these business trips, to serve me in much the same capacity as we have already discussed. I assume this is agreeable as well?" I said with a small smirk.

"Yes, Mr. Cullen. That would be fine." Fine. _Fine_? Oh, Isabella, it will be so much more than fine. Just wait and see.

"Very good." I smiled gently at her. "This is going very well, quite better than I would have expected, don't you think?"

"Yes, Sir. I agree. Quite well." So timid. So quiet. I would have to address that as well. Soon.

"There is, however, one small matter that I would like to take care of before we proceed to the checklists." She looked at me expectantly, but patiently.

I slowly brought my hands to her top leg and wrapped my fingers around her soft, warm calf. She gasped softly at the sudden feel of my hands on her skin. I slid my hands up her leg until they were under her knee.

"You have beautiful legs, Isabella. Long, soft, a lovely shape," I said as I teased the sensitive skin under her knee with my fingertips. "I can't wait to have them wrapped around me while I'm fucking you," I whispered hoarsely. She started to squirm a bit in her chair. "But these legs," I said as I took her knee fully in my hands, "are _mine_." I lifted her leg up and over, uncrossing it from the leg beneath, and placed it gently on the chair. "And they should be presented to me in exactly the manner of my choosing. You must not cross your legs, Isabella. I see that as you closing yourself off to me, denying me what is mine."

I had left my hands on her legs, but now had one on each bare knee. I slid my hands between her knees and gently pushed outward, until her legs were spread several inches apart on the chair. Her skirt rode up her thighs slightly, which only made me want to fuck her more. _Control_, Cullen, _control_.

"Uncrossed... and open. Always open." I whispered in her ear again, my warm breath tickling her neck. "Open to me, to anything I want to do to you, anytime I want." My mouth was so close to her skin, her neck. I was aching to press my lips there, my tongue, to taste her. "Do you understand, lovely?"

"Y-yes Sir. Yes, Mr. C-Cullen." Ah, finally. A crack in the calm facade.

"Now, let's discuss these checklists." I placed mine next to hers on the table, and I watched as her eyes gravitated to the differences between the two. Mine contained significantly more marks than hers, but that was to be expected, considering my experience and her lack thereof.

We went through every item on the list, talking about what we liked, what we disliked, what we wanted to try. She didn't know what some of the items were, so I answered her questions, describing each act in explicit detail. Again, I wanted her eyes to be completely open before she committed.

Finally, we reached the end of the lists.

"One last piece of business, Isabella, but the most important one of all. Your safewords." She nodded. "I know you've done some research on your own, so can I assume that you are familiar with the concept? You may answer."

"Yes, Sir. I know what safewords are and what they are used for."

"Very good, Isabella. I like to keep things simple, so we will use red, yellow, and green. You will have all three words to use as you see fit. You know what each is for?"

"Yes, Sir. Green is when I want you to push me harder, when I want more. Yellow is if I'm feeling uncomfortable for any reason, and I need for you to slow down. Red stops the scene completely and immediately."

I smiled broadly.

"You _have _done your homework, haven't you?"

She smiled back, almost shyly. So fucking beautiful.

"You should feel free to use your safewords at any time. That's why you have them. There will never, _ever _be any repercussions for using your words to stop or slow down a scene. We have to trust each other, Isabella, for this to work. I have to know that you will use these words if you need to... _when _you need to, because - trust me - you _will _need to at some point. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir, I understand," she said with a small nod.

So, we were done. All negotiations complete. All that remained was her decision. Mine was made, almost from the moment I opened the door and let her into my house. I knew I wanted her the minute I saw her.

"So, Isabella," I said softly. "What do you think? Do you want this?" I gestured to her and then to me. "Do you want _me_... to serve me, and only me?"

She was still looking down at the table, at the lists we had just completed, and she slowly lifted her head and met my gaze with the most intense expression I had ever seen.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, Sir. I want to serve you. And only you." She had that look again. Flushed skin, parted lips, heavy eyelids. She was aroused at the thought of serving me. Then she surprised the hell out of me. "When do we start?"

Holy fucking hell, she was anxious and ready. Well, so was I.

"Well, Miss Swan, since we are now officially in agreement, we can start right now." Hell, yeah. I couldn't fucking wait to touch her, to taste her, to hear her moans, feel her tongue and her fingers on my body. To hear her beg. To hear her _scream_. "Stand up and face the table," I ordered.

She immediately complied.

"Now, bend from the waist and lay your upper body on the table, resting on your elbows."

She didn't hesitate, not one second. She positioned herself on my conference table, and it was a sight to behold. But not yet perfect, not complete.

"Widen your stance, Isabella. Spread those pretty legs for me." She shifted her legs wider, about as far as she could go in that tight skirt she was wearing.

"Excellent. Now, arch your back a little, and lift your ass. Present yourself for me. Show me how much you want me."

She pressed her chest down into the table and arched her back, raising her ass just enough. Perfect positioning. Perfect stance. And mine, for the taking.

"Beautiful," I murmured. "You are so lovely, Isabella... Let's see what we have on today, what surprises you have planned for me, hmm?" I slid my chair directly behind her and ran my hands over her soft legs. I pushed her skirt up, all the way to her waist, but slowly, wanting her to anticipate my touch.

She was wearing white lace cheekies, I believe they were called, because the bottoms of her ass cheeks peeked out from beneath the tiny panties. Fuck... That combination of the innocent white lace, and the secret exposure of her beautiful bottom, and I had the hardest fucking erection of my life. I ran my fingertips over the lace, and I heard her gasp softly.

So she was affected too. I wasn't alone in the intensity of my desire.

"Such a bad, bad girl, Isabella... very naughty of you, teasing me with these panties... don't you think so?" She remained still and silent. So obedient, so soon. She continued to amaze and delight me.

"Bad girls, like you, Isabella... bad girls get spanked, don't they?" I stood from my chair so that I was directly behind her, standing between her spread legs.

I leaned over her on the table, pressing my hips against her ass, letting her feel the hardness of my erection, my desire for her. I put one hand on either side of her on the table, and lay my chest against her back, my mouth at her ear.

"Mmm... you feel so good, Isabella... I can't wait to fuck you." I ground my hips against her, my dick rubbing against her ass, between her legs. She moaned, long and hard this time. I smiled.

"That's my girl," I whispered in her ear. And she was. _My girl._All mine.

"But first, we need to deal with your teasing me... with these panties." I stood back up and placed my hands firmly on her ass and squeezed, as I had wanted to do since she walked in the door. I slid my fingertips just inside the top of her panties and slowly peeled them downward, exposing more and more of her beautiful skin. When they were just under the curve of her ass, I stopped, and admired. There was something so much more decadent, so forbidden, in pulling her panties down like that for a spanking. My dick was fucking throbbing now. We would have to take care of that next, that would make things official.

I rubbed my hands over her soft cheeks.

"Remember your safewords, Isabella," I reminded her, then I drew my hand back and landed a light smack on her right cheek.

"Oh!" she exclaimed.

"Ah, ah, ah, Isabella. I haven't given you permission to speak." I rubbed my hand softly across the pink that was forming, then pulled back and smacked her again, a little lower, and a little harder, but still very, very lightly, considering. I didn't want to hurt her, just introduce her to the pleasures that her Master could bring her.

This time, she moaned, and then pushed her ass back towards me. She wanted more.

"Two more, my lovely... I think four would be appropriate, don't you?" I slid my hand down, between her legs, and felt her, warm and wet, so wet. She gasped, and pushed against my hand.

"Oh, you like this don't you, sweet girl... yes, you do... so fucking wet for me," I said as I brought my fingers to my lips to taste her. "Mmm... delicious, just as I remember."

She moaned again, squirming on the table in front of me. I landed the third strike, on her left cheek this time, and she whimpered.

"One more, pretty girl... one more, and then you can show your Master how much you want me," I growled and gave her one more smack... that beautiful sound, that beautiful pink color, burned into my memory already.

I rubbed her skin softly, stroking her warm, now pink flesh, letting her know that I would care for her, that I would never truly hurt her. I squeezed and stroked and dipped back between her legs, just to hear her moan again. She did not disappoint.

"Are you okay, Isabella? Did I hurt you? Answer me." I wanted to know if she was okay, but I also wanted her to know that I was concerned, that I would always be concerned with her welfare. I had to build up her trust in me, and that could only be done with time and experience.

"Y-yes, Sir," she croaked, and then cleared her throat. "I'm okay. I'm not hurt." Then she moaned softly and whispered, "Good... so good."

Oh fuck, yeah. She _liked _it.

I slipped my fingers into the top of her panties and pulled them back up, then I gave her bottom a final pat.

"Stand up, Isabella," I said as I sat back in my chair. She rose gingerly and turned to face me. The look on her face was glorious, absolutely the most radiant, sexy, hungry expression I had ever seen.

"Beautiful... my beautiful Isabella," I murmured. I gently pulled her skirt back in place, knowing now that I could lift it again whenever I desired. "Let's wrap this up, shall we?" I said with a slight grin. "On your knees, Isabella," I ordered, and pointed directly in front of me. "Right here."

I thought I detected a small smile across her face as she kneeled before me. Was it even possible for her to be just as thrilled to serve me as I was to have her? I tried to wrap my mind around it, never having felt this level of attraction for a sub before. It was new to me, too. We were both in unknown territory.

I raised my hand to her face, my palm against her warm, soft cheek, and she closed her eyes and moaned softly at my touch.

"Sweet, Sweet Isabella..." I whispered. "Give me your left hand, my lovely girl."

She lifted her hand and placed it in mine. So trusting.

"I don't believe in collars, Isabella, or any other blatant signs of our commitment to each other. However, I would like to give you something to wear, something to remind you of your decision, remind you who you belong to."

I pulled the plain, wide platinum band out of my pocket and showed it to her.

"The inscription, on the inside, is something that only you will know is there. No one else will see it. But you will _know_. And I will expect you to act accordingly, at all times."

I showed her the ring, and she looked closely at it, reading the engraving... _Property of Edward Cullen, _it said. I liked to keep things simple.

She smiled again.

"Look at me, Isabella." I needed her to look in my eyes as I said this. She met my eyes, and I was once again momentarily speechless at what I saw there... the trust, the need, the desire. It seemed to match my own. "If you accept this ring... if you wear my ring, you will be mine. Do you understand what you are agreeing to? Is this what you want? Answer me honestly."

"Yes, Sir. I understand... and this... this is what I want..." She paused briefly, a bright pink blush creeping up her neck. "You... _you _are what I want." And I thought that I couldn't possibly be more pleased with her, or want her any more, when she whispered one last, desperate word. "_Please_."

Oh, yes. Yes, you may. You may have me. And I will have you. Right fucking now.

"Excellent," I said with forced calmness. I held her hand in mine, and slipped the ring onto her ring finger. I rubbed my thumb across the top of her hand, feeling her warm, soft skin yet again.

"Now, open your mouth, and show me how pleased you are to serve me."

* * *

><p><strong>Author Notes: <strong>

**Got a GREAT reaction to the first chapter of this story, which is why there is a SECOND chapter to this story... So... add it up and figure it out... Give me a bunch of reviews and I'll give you a THIRD chapter, with much much MUCH more sex. I mean, he hasn't even fucked her yet, and you KNOW that's coming. :)**

**But seriously. Thank you all so much for your nice words and messages. It means so much to me to have someone out there reading what I'm writing... and liking it? Well, that's just the cherry on top, so to speak. ;)**

**Thanks, as always, to my best friend and beta, LibbyLou862. I seriously couldn't do this with you, honey. You always take the time to read, time out of your super-busy life, while I'm always so anxious to post. And you do it with a smile. Love you!**

**Until next time...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All things "Twilight" belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. :)**

**A/N: My beta proofed this today while waiting to go to church. We're both going to hell...**

**Content Warning: Um. Sex.**

* * *

><p><strong>Beautiful chapter 3<strong>

I slipped the key into the lock and listened as the tumblers clicked into place. The bolt slid easily back, and I slowly turned the knob, not knowing what to expect. Would it be a playroom like I had seen online? Or maybe some sort of secret, horrible dungeon? I wasn't sure if that would thrill me or terrify me. Or both.

I opened the door and was shocked at what I saw: a huge, gorgeous room, with floor-to-ceiling windows. It was almost dark outside, and I could see the twinkling lights of the city, surrounding me. It was an unbelievably beautiful sight.

I quickly realized that the apartment took up the majority of the floor, other than the small hallway outside of the elevator. I laughed to myself, remembering what Mr. Cullen had said about the apartment, that he "had a small apartment downstairs." I had imagined a tiny living room, tiny kitchen, and tiny bedroom, but this was an upscale, glamorous apartment, something out of a magazine, something I could never afford.

And I was going to _live _here.

I wondered what "my living quarters" would look like at his home. I couldn't imagine anything more luxurious.

I finally stepped into the room and closed the door behind me.

The living area was one large room, with a huge, comfortable-looking couch and chairs on the right, facing the biggest flat screen TV I had ever seen. It was professionally mounted on the wall and was surrounded by a very expensive looking sound system.

The kitchen was on the left, with a large island separating it from the living area. It contained sleek, state-of-the-art appliances, or so I assumed - I really didn't know anything about kitchens, but it looked very high tech to me. The countertops were black granite, and the cabinets were a dark, rich wood. The walls were painted a deep mushroom color, trimmed in creamy white, and the subtle lighting gave the room a warm, soft glow.

It was lovely and comfortable and inviting.

I walked slowly around the room, trailing my fingertips across every surface. I somehow felt closer to him, touching his things. And then it occurred to me that _I_ was one of his things. And as I stood there in his beautiful apartment, I realized that I liked it. I _liked _being his. I _liked _being owned by him, knowing that he wanted me that much.

I looked down at my hand, at the ring that he had just given me, and I remembered the moment he slipped it on my finger, every sensory detail... the feel of my knees pressing into the carpet, the hungry look on his face as he slipped his hard cock in my mouth, the soft growling noise he made when I sucked him in deeply. It inflamed me, that noise, turning me on more than I had ever been.

I would do anything, _be_anything, for him, just to hear that sound again.

When he came down my throat, I felt strangely proud. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. _I_ was responsible for making him feel like that. _Me_. _Only _me.

I could still taste him on my lips, in my mouth.

And he was upstairs, right at that moment. So close. I could almost feel him, his fingers touching my skin, the burning trail they left behind, reminding me I was his.

I wondered if he was thinking of me, right then. Was he unable to clear his mind as I was, his thoughts returning over and over to what we had done, how it had felt? I wanted him to notice my absence, to miss me, to need me as much as I already needed him.

I opened the door to the bedroom, continuing my exploration through the apartment. It was a simple room, very minimalistic, but elegant. A very large, dark wood bed dressed in creamy white linens. Another large flat screen television, mounted on the wall, a dresser and two bedside tables in a rich, dark wood. Subtle, warm lighting. He had impeccable taste.

Unable to resist, I climbed up on the bed and laid down in the middle, sinking into the thick comforter. I stared up at the ceiling and let my mind wander. What would the night bring? What would he do, what would he ask _me _to do, and would I be able to give him what he asked for, would I be strong enough?

I was jolted out of my fantasy by the vibrating of my phone. An incoming text message, from him.

_**20 minutes. Be ready for me.**_

My heart started pounding immediately, thrilled that he wanted me so soon. I thought that he might make me wait, on this first night, just to test me in some way.

I hopped up off the bed to get ready, but quickly realized that I didn't know what he meant by "ready." He had given me no further instructions, and I had no idea what his expectations were.

Should I be clothed, or naked? Standing, or kneeling? At the door, or in bed? Was this another test? I started to panic, not wanting to fail him so soon in our relationship. Maybe he had been purposefully vague, wanting to see what I would do.

I raced around the bedroom, looking around, trying to decide what to do. I had none of my things yet, just what I was wearing, so I didn't really have a lot of options.

I ran into the master bathroom, a huge Italian marble suite, fully stocked with every product I would ever need or want, and I took a quick shower. I wrapped myself in a thick white towel, and, as I brushed my teeth, I noticed a beautiful sapphire-blue silk robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. I wasn't sure if he intended for me to wear that robe or not, but it seemed to be the best, and only, choice, and I quickly slipped it on. The smooth silk fabric felt absolutely sensual against my bare skin, and that particular shade of blue complemented my skin tone perfectly.

I wanted him to know how honored I was that he chose me, that he decided that he wanted me, so I kneeled on the floor in the living room by the door and waited, with two minutes to spare.

It seemed like an eternity until I heard him in the hallway, and as I waited, I tried to mentally prepare myself, taking a deep breath, casting my eyes respectfully to the ground. He didn't knock - of course, it was his apartment - he let himself in with a key.

The door opened, and several seconds went by in complete silence. I desperately wanted to look up, to see what his expression was, but I kept my eyes trained to the floor, as he had instructed. I could only assume that he was looking at me, at the choices I had made, and I waited to see if I had pleased him.

Finally, he stepped into the room, closing and locking the door behind him, until he was standing in front of me.

"Look at me, Isabella," he said softly.

I lifted my head and met his eyes, his beautiful, clear green eyes. He was still wearing the dark blue suit from earlier today, and I realized, with a hot blush rapidly creeping up my neck, that I knew what color underwear he had on at that moment.

"Very nice, Isabella," he said with a small smile. "I like this... seeing you waiting for me, on your knees." He reached down and stroked my cheek with his thumb. "Unless I tell you otherwise, this is how I would like for you to greet me, from now on."

I was so relieved that he was happy with me, that he seemed to have long-term plans for me, and it took all of my self-control not to smile back at him.

"Stand, please." He held his hand out to me to help me up. I held his hand while I stood and remembered when he had given me his hand, for balance, the first night we met. And what he had done to me that night. Fuck.

He walked slowly around until he was standing right behind me. I could feel the heat of his body behind me, and it made me shiver with anticipation. He moved my hair to one side and leaned closer, his breath warm on my neck.

"Feet shoulder width apart, Isabella," he whispered in my ear.

Shit! I immediately widened my stance and started to panic, internally berating myself for not paying attention and missing such a basic instruction so early on, but he quickly put me at ease.

"Not to worry, my lovely," he chuckled. "You are so new, so excitable. You will make mistakes. And as I told you, I am not like other Doms, I don't punish like other Doms. There will be punishments, of course, but not tonight." And then he brushed his lips down my neck, his tongue seeking out my skin. "Not tonight."

He continued to circle around me, and I watched him. He had told me to look at him, and hadn't yet instructed me to look away, so I had his permission. He stopped in front of me, again, his eyes roaming my body, my nipples growing painfully hard beneath the thin fabric.

He opened the top button of his shirt and loosened his tie with one hand, slowly pulling it from around his neck until it fell to the floor. The intensity of his gaze was arousing, and I could feel the ache increasing between my legs.

He took off his jacket, draping it casually across the back of the couch, then stood in front of me again, only inches away. His hand was at my waist, fingers softly pulling on the belt to my robe until it fell to the floor, along with his tie. The robe had opened up slightly, without the belt to hold it closed, and he slid his fingers just under the edge of the fabric, the backs of his knuckles brushing across my bare skin.

I couldn't hold it in any longer, and I moaned softly at his touch. It was like electricity and fire and heat and ache, and I never wanted him to stop.

"Mmm. So soft, so warm," he murmured. "I wonder how wet you are, pretty girl." He pushed the robe open a little bit more, just enough to expose my breasts.

"Fuck," he moaned as he stared at my chest, "your breasts are perfect, Isabella," and then he brushed the pads of his thumbs across both nipples, watching as the skin puckered and tightened even more. I was breathing in shallow pants, biting my bottom lip nervously, and desperate for more, just _more_.

Using both hands, he slid his fingertips under the edge of the robe at my neck, pushing the fabric slowly off my shoulders, until it fell to the floor in a soft, blue pool.

I was now completely naked before him, for the very first time.

"Beautiful," he whispered in the quiet room.

"There are," he started, taking a deep, shuddering breath, "so many things I want to do to you right now." He covered my breasts with his hands, squeezing the weight of them, then gently pinching my nipples until I moaned. His hands never stopped moving while he spoke, his voice, deep and rough. "I want to bend you over the back of that couch and fuck you hard and fast. I want to fuck that sweet mouth of yours again and again. I want to lay you on that granite countertop and spread your legs wide, licking that sweet pussy until you scream."

Oh my God. Yes. All of those, please. I wanted it all, with him.

"But not tonight, sweet Isabella," he said with that sexy grin. "Tonight, I'm going to take my time, and I'm going to touch and taste every inch of your beautiful body." He slid one hand down between my legs, softly stroking my bare skin, then slipping inside where I was warm and wet. "And then, _then,"_he growled, "... I'm going to fuck you until you scream."

I wanted so desperately to look down, to watch his hands as they touched me, but I didn't dare look away from him. His eyes never left mine as he spoke, so I couldn't even sneak a quick peek. But I could feel him, oh God, I could feel him.

"Now," he said calmly, "turn around, and walk to the bedroom. I'll be right behind you."

I turned, immediately, and as I started to walk away, he gave me a quick swat on my bare ass, and I gasped, in equal parts surprise and arousal. I glanced at him, over my shoulder, and he winked at me. Just as I reached the bedroom doorway, he called out to me.

"Stop right there." His tone was instantly commanding, and I froze where I stood, both nervous and confused. He seemed to always keep me off balance, not knowing what was happening next. Of course, that's probably exactly what he wanted. "Put your hands on the door frame," which I did, and then he added more instruction. "Higher, Isabella. As high up as your hands can reach. Yes. Just like that."

He didn't say anything for several seconds, like he was trying to determine what he wanted me to do next, but I knew better. He knew exactly what he wanted. He was just taking his time to get there. And every nerve ending I had was on fire, knowing that he was watching my naked body stretched out in front of him. On display, for his pleasure.

"Now widen your stance, Isabella. Until your feet hit the door frame."

Oh fuck, he was killing me, the most delicious torture, and I never wanted it to end.

My arms were stretched up over my head, and after I pushed my feet as wide as they could go, I had to hold on to the door frame to keep my balance. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what I looked like from where he was standing, but then he was there, right behind me, and I didn't have to imagine anymore. Because he told me.

"Fuck, Isabella," he whispered, his lips on my ear, my neck, my shoulder. "Do you have any idea how fucking hot you look right now?" Then it wasn't just his lips, it was his hands, sliding over my hips, up my ribs, covering my breasts, squeezing and pulling. "Your long legs spread open for me... " he said as he moved one hand down my stomach until his fingers were finally where I needed them.

"God, yes," I moaned, throwing my head back against his shoulder, unable to control myself any longer. "_Please_."

But I knew it wouldn't be that easy.

"Patience, sweet Isabella," he chuckled, moving his hands back up, back until they were cupping my breasts again, pulling and squeezing my nipples. Then he pressed his body flush against my back, and I could feel him, his erection, as he rubbed it against my bare ass. "Do you feel that, how hard I am? Hmm?"

I wanted to answer him, to tell him, yes, I can feel it and I want more, but I knew he didn't really want an answer to his rhetorical questions. Instead, I pushed back against him, grinding my ass against him.

"Goddamn it," he whispered against my neck, grabbing my hips to hold me still, his fingers digging into my flesh. He didn't move for several seconds, and I could hear his panting breath in my ear, feel his pounding heart. I was affecting him, hopefully as strongly as he affected me. God, that made me feel powerful.

He slowly slid his hands behind me, stroking my backside, softly, then squeezing.

Then nothing. He was gone, his hands, gone.

Before I could even register the loss of contact with him and how that made me feel, his hand was crashing back on me again, smacking my ass with a loud, satisfying sound. I grunted loudly, the sting and the warmth blossoming on my skin. I wanted him to do that again.

"I think I've waited long enough, don't you think," he growled seductively in my ear, and then he was all business. "Get up on the bed. Now. On your back."

I hesitated for only a second or two, then quickly moved across the room, climbing onto the large, soft bed, anxious for whatever was next. I didn't know exactly how he wanted me, so I waited, assuming he would give me explicit directions. I didn't have to wait long.

"Hands above your head," he directed from the foot of the bed, watching me. I complied, my fingertips grazing the heavy wooden headboard. "Now, spread your legs."

After all we had already done, after all he'd already seen of me, for some reason, this embarrassed me, and I froze.

"Now, Isabella," he said sharply.

I knew that this, at the very least, was part of the bargain, and I had to push past my fears and insecurities and give him what he wanted, trust myself completely with him. I took a deep, shaky breath, and I opened my legs on the bed.

His reply was immediate.

"Wider."

I opened myself up a few inches more.

"Wider, Isabella," he barked. "Don't make me tie you up so soon. I wanted to go slowly with you tonight."

Another deep breath. I repeated a mantra in my head - _this is what I want, this is what I want, this is what I want. _I stretched my legs open as far as they could go, the warmth of my sudden blush burning on my skin.

"Bend your knees. Pull your legs all the way up."

I knew what he wanted now. It was just like the party, upstairs at his house, and the conference table in his office. He wanted me to open myself up, to present myself to him. It was all about control with him, he had told me, and he wanted to show us both who was in charge, that he could make me do whatever he wanted.

This was what I wanted, what I had signed up for, quite literally, so I did exactly as he asked. I could only imagine what I looked like, spread out for him on his bed, but it must have been right, judging from the sounds he was making.

"Fuck," he moaned softly, so softly I almost couldn't hear him. "Yes. Perfect."

I wanted to look at him, to see the expression on his face, the color of his eyes. But I knew that I shouldn't, that it would be disrespecting him in some way.

I heard the sound of metal against metal. The slow, rhythmic clicking of metal teeth. Then, a soft thud, his pants falling to the ground. I knew then, I had a picture in my mind, how he must look at that moment. The crisp, white shirt, unbuttoned at his neck. His tight, black boxer briefs, his erection straining beneath the fabric.

He climbed on the bed, and I was relieved for the second time that night that he wasn't going to make me wait. He positioned himself between my legs, kneeling over me, but not yet touching. I could see him then, but he was... naked. He had taken off his shirt and underwear as well. Oh my God, his body. His chest, his arms, his stomach. Perfect. So absolutely beautiful, hard, chiseled. He had seen so much of me already, and I had seen nothing of him, other than his hard cock when he slipped it in my mouth this afternoon. But he had been fully dressed at the time, shirt buttoned up, tie knotted tightly at his neck. But this... fuck, his naked body, it was more than I could have ever imagined.

My fingers were twitching, aching to touch him.

He leaned over me further, one arm on either side, until he was just inches from my face. He was smiling.

"Beautiful," he whispered, then brushed his lips across mine.

I was surprised, for some reason, assuming that he would never kiss me, that it was somehow not part of the bargain. Then he did it again, and again, and again, until I was reaching up for him with my mouth. I wanted so much more of him. I felt his tongue, warm and wet, sliding across my bottom lip, then slowly inside my mouth.

I moaned, and he pulled away, just enough so that he could look at me.

"Pretty, pretty girl," he sighed. "Now I'm going to give you what I promised." He moved his mouth to my ear, kissing and licking and softly biting my skin, my jaw, my neck, my collarbone. He ran his tongue down the valley between my breasts, then across, brushing just the tip of his nose around my hard nipple, in slow, torturous circles.

When I thought I would go insane with need, when I couldn't take it anymore, I gave him what he was waiting for.

"_Please_."

He chuckled and continued to tease me.

"Something you need, Isabella?" I could hear the smirk in his voice, but I was so desperate for him to touch me, I would do anything.

Circles. Slow circles.

"Oh God, _please_." I begged him.

"God's not here, Isabella. Tell me what you want."

He wanted the words. He wanted me to tell him what I wanted, and it was so hard for me to open myself up like that, to lay everything out on the table. I felt so vulnerable.

"Please... touch me."

He sighed, and I could feel his warm breath on my skin.

"I _am _touching you, Isabella. Is that all you wanted? Hmm?"

Fuck, this man was driving me insane.

"Touch me, please. With your mouth. Your tongue." There, I said it.

"Where, pretty girl? Where do you want my tongue?"

I groaned, exasperated with his game, but aroused by it all at the same time, never wanting him to stop.

"My... b-breast," I blurted out desperately. "My nipple. Please... _please_." I was begging now, I said what he wanted.

"That's my girl," he said with a grin, then gave me what I was begging for. His tongue, on my nipple, sucking me inside his mouth, biting gently with his teeth.

"Oh God, yes," I moaned, arching my back to get closer to him.

He licked and sucked on one side, then switched to the other, back and forth, until I forgot where I was, what I was doing. I lifted my hands from their position at the headboard, burying my fingers in his soft hair, holding his head tightly to my chest.

He pulled back immediately, his hands on my wrists, pulling my arms away from him and placing them back above my head.

"Ah, ah, ah, Isabella. Keep your hands here."

I realized my error and started to apologize, to beg for his forgiveness, but he didn't seem upset. He knew that I was new to this, that it would take time for me to adjust to the rules, and he was being very patient. I wanted to please him so badly, to be what he wanted me to be, to be what he needed. I blinked a few times, clearing my head, and I bit nervously on my bottom lip. His breath hitched.

"Isabella," he said, his voice deep and rough. He grabbed my chin in one hand, his eyes fierce and cold, staring at my mouth. "_Don't_."

I knew, without him saying another word, that it was my lip he was talking about, my nervous habit, but I didn't know why. Why would that bother him? I did as he asked, and his mouth was on mine instantly, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, biting it softly, as I had just done. I groaned loudly.

"Mine," he whispered, then smiled, clearing his throat. "Now, let's see... where was I? Oh yes," he grinned. "I was kissing every inch of your beautiful body. And I think I was... here."

He started kissing my stomach, working his way down my body, but with the position he had placed me in, my most private part was only inches from his face. I couldn't imagine that it would take much longer for him to get there. I could no longer see him, I could only hear and feel, and I waited to feel his mouth on me.

"Mmm. Isabella. You are so beautiful," he groaned. "And wet." I felt something touching my lower lips, tracing a line, and I heard him breathing in deeply. "God, you smell good." Oh shit, that was his nose! He was touching me, _down there_, with the tip of his nose! He had his face right between my legs, and I was so completely open. I started to blush again, the skin on my face and neck burning brightly, just imagining what I must look like.

But then I felt his tongue, and I forgot everything except how he made me feel.

It brushed softly across my clit, drawing small circles, around and around. No one had ever done that to me before, and it felt so damned good. So warm. So wet.

"Oh!" I called out, unable to stop myself, and lifted my hips slightly, begging him for more.

"Mmm. You taste so fucking good, my lovely," he murmured. "Just as I remembered." He pressed his lips to me, sucking my clit into his mouth, biting softly with his teeth.

"Oh, God!" I screamed. It was like electric current shooting from between my legs and throughout my entire body.

"Like that, do you? Want me to do that again?" He waited.

"Yes. Y-yes, Sir. Please. Oh please don't stop."

He didn't need much convincing this time and buried his face between my legs, his tongue and lips working me quickly into a frenzy. When he slid a finger inside me, I knew I was close, that I wouldn't last much longer. The combination of his tongue on my clit and his finger inside me, it was too much to take. I could feel it, the muscles in my stomach starting to clench, the warmth starting to spread, and I couldn't stop it if I tried.

"Oh! Yes!" I screamed. It seemed to go on forever, but he didn't stop. He held my legs open and continued to kiss and lick and bite and suck until I stilled.

He crawled back up my body until we were once again face to face. He leaned down to kiss me, and I was afraid, afraid to taste myself on his lips, but he didn't really give me a chance to complain, nor did I think that it would be something he really wanted to discuss. He crushed his lips to mine, instantly opening his mouth and sliding his tongue inside me. He tasted differently than before, but it wasn't unpleasant, and I knew this was just the first time, that this would happen again, so I accepted it.

He pulled back and looked at me. He was panting, his eyes dark and wild. He looked like an animal, and I was caught underneath him, his willing prey.

"That was fucking unbelievable," he growled. "I love making you come, hearing you scream for me." He kissed me hard again.

"Let's see if I can do it again."

I felt him then, between my legs, the head of his cock sliding inside me. I sucked in a breath and held it as he pushed further in. He was maddeningly slow, taking his time, as he did with everything, or so it seemed. I wondered if he would ever take me quickly.

Once he was completely inside me, he stilled and grabbed my hands in one of his, pinning them to the bed above my head. He balanced himself on the other arm, pulled all the way out, then slammed back in. We both moaned.

"Fuck," he said hoarsely. "So fucking tight."

He pulled out again, almost all the way, then slammed in again. Jesus.

"Let me hear you, Isabella," he said, moving his hand from the bed to my breast, pulling and pinching my nipple while his hips moved in slow circles.

"Oh, God," I moaned. "Please." I was begging him again, already.

"Yes... wrap those beautiful long legs around me." My legs were sore from being held so long in one position, and it felt good to move them again. It felt even better to wrap them tightly around his waist, digging my heels into his muscular ass, pulling him in to me.

"Fuck, yes... How I've dreamed about fucking you, Isabella, just like this," he whispered. "Just like this."

His pace increased gradually, his thrusts a little harder, a little faster. My hips were rising to meet him, always desperate for more, never sated. I was moaning non-stop now, my head thrashing from side to side. It seemed to go on forever.

But he offered no encouragement, no pleas for me to reach my end. He seemed content to slowly pound into me forever, if that's what it took. Well, content wasn't exactly the right word. He was hard as a rock and panting, beads of sweat forming on his brow, his eyes dark, his jaw clenching and releasing in time with his thrusts.

The friction, the constant friction with the way he moved inside me, it was getting me there, and I could feel it starting to build again. After that last orgasm, I didn't think I could come again so quickly, but everything with this man defied logic. But it wasn't fast enough. I needed so much more.

"Please..." I started to beg him again. "Please... oh God, please, please, please." I was muttering under my breath, but getting louder and louder the more desperate I became.

But he was completely silent, concentrating on his actions, on giving me what he promised. To make me scream again.

I was so close now, so close. I just needed a little push to get there, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn't move.

He seemed to sense the change in me, and he leaned back, on his heels, pulling out almost all the way. No... this was not what I wanted, this would not get me there. But then he moved his hands to my legs, unwrapping them from around his waist, his hands on my thighs. He pushed my legs back, towards my body, lifting my hips in the air, and then he slammed back inside me, much deeper than before.

"Fuck!" I screamed, throwing my head back against the bed, eyes screwed shut. Yes, this was it. This was what I needed. He was frantic now, and I could tell by the look in his eyes, the sounds of his grunts, and the lack of rhythm in his thrusts, that he was close too. He was just waiting for me.

And then it came. That overwhelming feeling, crashing over me, coursing warm and electric through my body.

And I screamed. Over and over and over, my voice hoarse by the end.

Somewhere at the end, I was aware that he was coming as well, with one last hard thrust, deep inside me, then his hips stilled as he filled me, whispering my name.

He collapsed on top of me, and it seemed that neither of us could move. His weight was comforting, somehow, and I wanted to touch him now, more than ever. To stroke his back, his hair. To whisper soothing words in his ear, to let him know how amazing he was, how much I needed him.

I was so tired, so utterly exhausted, I could barely keep my eyes open, but I didn't want to miss this.

He lifted his head then and stroked my hair. Then he pressed his lips to mine, softly, and rolled to my side. As his body left mine, I felt empty, like I was nothing if he wasn't inside of me. I had never felt like that before, like my very existence was dependent on one person's happiness, but that's how I felt with him. I had only known him a week, but I was already completely tied to him, emotionally and physically. I wanted nothing more than to make him happy.

He pulled me to him, his arm wrapped around me, my head on his chest, and he stroked my hair again. I was perfectly, insanely happy.

He was asleep in minutes, and I listened to his soft, even breathing for several minutes. I lifted my head to look at him, to really look at him, now that I could do so without reprimand.

His face was relaxed, he looked at peace, so calm. His hair was a mess, and he looked freshly fucked. Of course, I'm sure I looked the same, but it was so incredible on him. His eyelashes were long and dark, and I studied them, having never been close enough to notice them before. His mouth, those beautiful soft lips that had been all over me, had brought me so much pleasure.

I reached up, slowly, and stroked his bottom lip with my finger, touching him so intimately for the first time. And I realized that I was his. And I would never want anyone else.

"Beautiful," I whispered to my sleeping Master.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: First, I want to thank EVERYONE who read chapter 2. And I mean that sincerely. I have never before had a response like that to a story. Seriously. I'm in awe. And totally humbled. It's so nice to write something and know that someone is reading it. And liking it! I mean, I'd write it anyway, but 8,000 hits are WAY more fun than 300 hits. :)**

**I got two questions over and over from chapter 2, which I'd like to answer. 1) What is Bella's background, that she would so willingly give up everything to go 24/7 with Edward? Answer, honestly, is that I have no idea! This story didn't really have a lot of deep thought to it, it was initially just supposed to be PWP, but now, I'm thinking about it, and I'll include some of that in future chapters. But I DO have an idea... :) 2) Is Edward really going to share Bella? And a lot of you don't like that. Answer, yes, he is. My Dom Edward has some versy specific ideas about things and what he likes and I can't change that. I'm just writing his story. I will tell you that it will not happen every chapter, and he will only include one extra person at a time, no groups. And it won't ever be a traditional threesome. Edward will never participate... he just likes to watch. One thing I did promise (which I included starting with chapter 3) is that I will put a content warning at the top of every chapter so that if you don't like this sort of thing, you can skip that chapter, and hopefully come back for the next! Hope that's okay for eveyrone.**

**Next, I want to recommend "The Cassolette" by MaBarberElla, my dear h00r friend. It's a super hot Carlisle (yes, Daddy C!) story, who is trying to control his urges for Bella. SUPERHOT. It's a companion piece, a prequel, of "The Hummer" but in CPOV. Speaking of MaBarberElla, she repeatedly tried to steer me away from working on this chapter over the past few weeks so that I would go work on my slash story, My Wedding Present. SHE is the one responsible for dragging me into the fuckhot world of slash. So please give her some shit about that. LOVE YOU M! ;)**

**Last, as I mentioned at the top of this chapter, thanks as always, to my best friend and beta, LibbyLou862, for proofing this chapter while she was waiting to go to church. We giggled a lot on the phone, and she promised to pray for me. :)**

**Please let me know what you think, and if you can't read between the lines, that's me blatantly begging you for a review. But it's not me, it's Edward. Reviews make him REALLY happy, and we all want Edward to be happy, don't we?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: All things "Twilight" belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. :)**

**Content Warning: Sex. Lots and lots of sex. But more specifically, in case any of these squick you out: partial facial, light anal play, light rimming, some bondage. And that's it. I don't want to give everything away up front!**

* * *

><p><strong>Beautiful, chapter 4<strong>

I had been awake for a while, not moving, just laying in the dark, watching my beautiful Isabella sleep.

I didn't know what time it was, and I didn't really care. When it was like this, when everything was perfect, the world simply stopped revolving. Time started and ended in this very room, and, until I was ready to change anything, it would remain exactly like this.

I glanced out the window at the nighttime sky. The curtains were open, and I could see the lights of the city, casting a soft glow into the room. Just enough light to see the woman lying next to me.

She was on her side, facing away from me, and I turned onto my side behind her, matching her position and inching closer, but not yet touching.

She was utter perfection. The most beautiful, delicious, intoxicating creature in the entire world, only inches away from me, sleeping off the pleasure I had just given her. The bed sheet was barely covering her, twisted around her legs, just a hint of an exposed hip. Her face was relaxed in sleep, her lips barely parted, her breathing soft and deep.

I had only known her for a few days, a little over a week actually, but I already knew that I would never want, or need, anyone but her. The night I met her, I had only been without a submissive for a few weeks - I wasn't even looking yet - and this woman had simply fallen into my life. She filled a void that I didn't even realize was there, and I couldn't imagine my life without her. My every waking moment was filled with her, remembering our short, shared past... planning our endless future.

And she was mine, mine for the taking. Whenever and wherever and whatever I wanted.

And I _wanted_ now. I _needed_ to touch her.

I ran my fingertips lightly down her arm, from her shoulder to her wrist, reveling in the soft silkiness of her bare skin. She was so warm, but she shivered slightly at my touch, sighing softly in the dark. I loved that her body reacted to me, even in her sleep.

Her breasts were completely uncovered, and I brushed the edge of my thumb lightly around her nipple, watching as it instantly puckered and hardened beneath my touch. I gently lifted her hair away from her face, exposing her beautiful, long neck to me, and I brushed my lips against the skin just beneath her jaw.

"Isabella," I whispered in her ear, sliding my hand from her breast down her body, settling on the soft, bare skin between her legs. She was still sleeping soundly, and I needed her awake for what I wanted to do to her, but, for the moment, I was enjoying playing with her sleeping body. I slipped a finger inside her, and I was pleasantly surprised to find her wet and ready for me. My dick was hard and aching, twitching against her naked backside.

I circled her clit with my wet finger, slowly, softly, and whispered in her ear again. I wanted her to wake to my voice and my touch, for her body to know me and want me as much as I wanted her.

She took in a deep breath, sighing as she exhaled, and pushed her hips slightly against my hand, just enough for me to notice.

"Isabella," I said softly, my lips and my tongue on her ear, her neck. Now that I'd had a taste of her, I couldn't seem to control myself. "Isabella, it's time to wake up, sweet girl."

"Mmm," she groaned softly and stretched her body against mine, leaning her head back, tucking it just under my neck. The temptation to kiss her was overwhelming. So I did.

She was still asleep, although starting to stir, so I very gently pressed my lips to hers, over and over, just enough to feel how warm and soft she was. I slid my hand between her knees and lifted up her top leg, bending it at a comfortable angle.

"Isabella," I said a little louder, "I need you to wake up. I'm going to fuck you now, and I want you to know what I'm doing." I kissed her a little harder, my tongue sweeping across her plump bottom lip, then inside her mouth. She opened her mouth to mine, giving me me her tongue, and I knew that she was finally awake. She reached back and buried her hand in my hair, pulling my head to her, and she started to turn her body towards mine.

"No, No, Isabella," I said, smiling, turning her back on her side. "I want you like this, on your side." I waited a beat or two, knowing that she wouldn't question me, but wanting her to be curious. "I'm going to fuck you, my lovely, just like this," I said, and as I pulled her knee up and back, I pushed my cock slowly inside her.

"Oh, God," she whispered in the dark as I filled her, "yes... oh, please."

"Does that feel good, baby?" I pulled out slowly, and pushed back in, establishing a maddeningly slow pace. I wanted to feel her, and I wanted her to feel me.

"Yes... yes, Sir. So good," she moaned. "So, so good." She pushed back against me, trying to encourage me to go faster, but I knew what I wanted, and she would not deter me.

"Isabella, stop trying to control me," I admonished with a soft chuckle. She sighed heavily in obvious frustration. I knew exactly how she felt. I wanted to just fuck her, hard and fast, give us both what we needed, but I wanted something very specific.

"Close your eyes... and just _feel _me." I pressed my hand against her stomach, holding her tightly against my body. "Feel how hard I am for you." I circled my hips, sliding in and out of her, listening to her soft breathing turn. "Feel how wet you are for me. Fuck, you feel so good." I kissed her neck again, biting her gently, and she moaned, trying to flex against me again, but I pressed tighter on her stomach, reminding her. "Keep still, Isabella."

Her eyes were tightly shut, and her brow was furrowed in concentration.

I kept the same pace, no faster, no slower... no harder, no softer. Just slowly, sliding in and out of her.

Several minutes went by, her breathing gradually becoming fast and shallow, and she started to clench, tightening herself around my cock. She was close. I needed to come so badly, but first, I needed _her _to come. There were times, not often, that I would search out my own release, independent of her needs, but this was not one of them. I knew I could make her come very quickly, with a few simple touches, but I wanted her to get there slowly, concentrating on the sensations of only one area of her body, on the pleasure that I alone could give her.

"Oh please... please let me come... please," she whispered, begging. Fuck, if she only knew what that did to me, the sounds of her desperation. My control was slipping, and quickly.

"It's important, _Isabella_," I said through clenched teeth, "that you completely understand." I continued to fuck her as I explained the facts of our relationship to her. "That you belong... to _me_." My body was starting to shake with the effort required to hold back. "That I control your every pleasure." The urge to fuck, _hard_, was overwhelming. "That you only come when I want you to come."

"And I want you to come now," I growled in her ear, and I moved my hand back between her legs, pressing hard on her swollen clit.

She screamed, in the dark, as she came hard around me, almost instantly. I was amazed by her, she had so little training, so little experience, but she was able to follow my directions almost perfectly. I wasn't sure what that meant, and didn't want to think about it at the moment. Instead, I decided to ride out her delicious orgasm, the sounds she was making, the way she was holding me tightly, squeezing me with her body.

As she finally quieted, her body still, but panting, I took what was mine. I grabbed both of her hips tightly in my hands and fucked her as I had wanted to - hard... and fast. And only seconds later, my cock buried deep inside her, I exploded, following her into bliss.

When I was finally able to breathe again, I pulled her against me, tightly, my cock still deep within her. I didn't want to leave her body just yet. She felt so good, so warm, and being inside her, she felt like she was a part of me. It just felt right, like where I was supposed to be.

I stroked her hair, and kissed her neck softly.

"Beautiful," I whispered in her ear. "Go back to sleep my lovely. You'll need it for tomorrow." She turned suddenly and looked at me, a curious expression on her face, and I simply smiled at her, gave her a quick wink. She would know, in time.

* * *

><p>I woke up only a few hours later, sunlight streaming through the windows, and after a quick glance at the bedside clock, knew that if I didn't get up then, I would want another round with my beautiful girl, and then I would be terribly late for work.<p>

I hopped out of bed and walked to the bathroom, and right before I closed the door, I turned back and looked at her, sleeping in my bed. Well, her bed now.

She took my breath away. Her dark brown hair was fanned across the cream colored linens, her long legs stretched out, entangled in the sheets. Her flawless, perfect skin. I sighed, admiring her beauty, then smiled at my incredible luck at having found her.

* * *

><p>"Goddamn it, Jessica! I told you I needed those reports by noon! Get them now!" I slammed the phone down and stared at my desk, trying to calm myself. "Fuck!"<p>

My tolerance level for incompetence was, on a regular day, very low. I do not suffer fools gladly. However, on this particular day, I was especially short-tempered, wanting only to be naked with Isabella, exploring her body and her limits, not stuck in this office alone.

Everything about this room now reminded me of her. The conference table that she laid across for me, those white lace panties. The sound of my hand as it struck her skin. The carpet near my chair, where she kneeled when I gave her my ring, when she took my cock in her mouth for the first time. _Jesus_.

I found myself lost in thought, wondering what she was doing. Wondering if she was thinking about me at all. About what we had done. And there was so much more I wanted to do to her. _With _her.

And she was downstairs, right at that moment, just waiting for me. _Waiting for me._

Fucking hell. Why didn't I think of that before? She was _mine_. I could have her anytime I wanted, anywhere. I didn't have to wait. I could have her, now.

I grabbed my phone and sent her a quick text message, knowing _exactly _what I wanted.

**My office, 15 minutes. Lingerie and heels.**

As soon as I hit _Send_, my cock started to get hard, just thinking about her in some tiny scrap of lace, those long legs in high-heeled shoes. The apartment was well-stocked with clothing, bought specifically for her, and I couldn't help wondering what she would choose. I knew she couldn't ride the elevator and walk into my office wearing only undergarments, so I was curious as to what she would do.

Fifteen minutes later, my desk phone buzzed.

"Mr. Cullen, Miss Swan is here to see you." Jessica, my secretary, sounding bored, as usual.

"Send her in, Jessica," I replied tersely. I was so fucking aroused, needing to touch her so badly, to see her, but I had to maintain control. She _needed _me to be in control. I walked around to the front of my desk, leaning back against it, my arms crossed, waiting.

The door swung open, slowly, and she walked in. Holy shit. She was so fucking hot. And mine. Her hair was down, long, and wild. Her lips were plump and red, glossy with lipstick. And she was wearing a long, khaki trench coat, tightly belted at the waist. Just under the hem, I could see stockings, and high, black pumps.

I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice.

"Lock the door," I said roughly, "and come here."

She met my gaze for a second or two, the tiniest smile on her lips, obviously pleased with my reaction. She reached behind her, flipped the lock on the door, and started to walk over to me.

"_Slowly_, Isabella," I ordered.

I wanted to take my time with her, but I didn't think I could, that I was able to. I needed her too badly at the moment, and I had absolutely no patience left. Besides, we had plenty of time later, at my home. I had plans.

I grabbed her belt, pulling her towards me, and she gasped softly. I pulled at the belt, slowly untying it.

"I like unwrapping you," I whispered in her ear, running my nose down the side of her neck. "It's like Christmas," I grinned. "But much... much... hotter."

Her coat fell open and revealed just a hint of black lace and skin. Black. Very nice. I leaned back against my desk.

"Take it off," I ordered. She looked at me curiously, not understanding exactly what I was asking. "The coat. _Off_."

She tilted her shoulders back and let the coat fall to the floor, and I couldn't breathe for a moment. She was so fucking beautiful, so perfectly submissive, and all mine. Black lace teddy, matching thong, and garter belt, stockings, and heels.

"Very nice, Isabella," I said with a grin. "Beautiful choice."

I walked around to the back of my desk and sat in my wide leather chair.

"Come here," I said roughly, pointing to the floor in front of my chair.

She walked slowly around the desk, a little unsure of herself, but still sexy as hell, until she was standing in front of me.

"Now, turn around."

She turned, looking at me over her shoulder, until her back was facing me.

I slid a fingertip just inside the top of one stocking, stroking the soft, bare skin underneath. She sucked in a quick breath at the feeling of my hands on her.

"Mmm," I groaned. "So soft. So warm. Who do you belong to, Isabella?"

She seemed surprised by my question, and it took her a moment or two to answer.

"You, Sir. I belong to you," she said in a breathy, delicious voice.

"Yes, that's right," I murmured, sliding my hands up to the exposed skin of her ass, my fingertips playing in the crease just above her thighs. I scooted down to the edge of the chair and grabbed her hips.

"Here, Isabella. Sit," I said, and pulled her down onto my lap. Her back was facing me, so I pulled her hair aside, all to one shoulder, so that I could get to her beautiful neck. I kissed her gently, licking and sucking her skin, biting her softly when I could. I slid my hands down to her legs and pulled them apart until they were stretched as widely as possible, held in place just outside of my own.

My hands moved up her thighs, feeling the soft, silkiness of her stockings, until I could touch her warm skin. Then I stroked where her legs connected to her hips, teasing her, knowing she wanted me in a different place. She was already moaning softly, subtly grinding her hips on my lap, looking for something to ease the ache.

Unfortunately, for her, she would get no release from me today. Well, not until that evening. I wanted her to be hungry and desperate, to spend the afternoon needy and aware.

I slid my hand between her legs, feeling the subtle bumps and ridges of the black lace beneath my fingertips, sliding over the seam that was right between her legs with only my middle finger. She moaned loudly and threw her head back against me.

"Mmm... you like that, pretty girl?" I whispered in her ear, licking and biting her, sucking the lobe into my mouth. I continued to stroke between her legs, on that seam, slowly up and down, loving the way she squirmed beneath me. "You taste delicious, Isabella. _Here_," I said, as I ran my tongue down her neck to her shoulder. "And _here_," I whispered, sliding my fingers beneath the fabric of her teddy, touching her soft, bare skin.

"Y-yes... yes, Sir," she moaned. "Feels so good."

I pushed a finger inside her, wet, hot, and tight, and when she pushed against me, I stopped the movement of my fingers.

"Control, Isabella," I warned. "You have to learn to control your body, your mind." I held her hips as they stilled, waiting until I felt I could safely continue.

After a moment, after Isabella took a deep, shaking breath, I continued, pulling the fabric of the teddy between her legs completely aside this time. I could both hear and feel the increase of her breathing, and as I slid my finger back inside her, I could feel how wet and wanting she was. My girl was always wet and ready for me. Lovely.

"Tell me, sweet girl," I whispered in her ear as my fingers played between her legs. "Tell me what you want right now. I want to know. I want to hear your lovely, hungry voice." I slid one hand up her body, to her breast, and teased her nipple with my fingertips, over the black lace fabric.

"Ohhh," she moaned, trying desperately not to move her hips against me. "I... I want...," she started.

"Yes?" I asked, circling her clit with my finger and sliding my other hand beneath the teddy, grabbing her breast in my hand. I took her nipple between my thumb and finger, rolling it gently at first, then squeezing tightly.

"Oh God," she groaned, then took a deep breath. "I want... I want you... inside me... please, Sir..." Then she seemed to panic a little, her body tensing beneath my touch. "I mean... if that pleases you," she muttered quickly.

"It's alright, Isabella," I answered, my fingers continually moving in her wetness. "I asked you to tell me. When I ask specifically like that, I want to know what you are thinking." I kissed her shoulder, then pressed my finger directly on her swollen clit, just to hear her sweet moan. "And I want to be inside you, too. Lift up for a second, sweetness."

As she whispered an unintelligible string of words in a soft moan, she slowly lifted off of me, and I quickly unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my pants, and lowered my zipper. I pulled my hard cock out of my pants, holding it tightly in my hand, giving it a quick pump. I pushed it between her legs, getting the swollen tip nice and wet. Fuck, she felt so good, warm and slick and ready.

"You want this, Isabella?" I growled in her ear. I needed her, and I needed her now. No more games. I slid my cock back and forth in the wetness between her legs, waiting for her to beg me to enter her. "_Tell me._"

"Yes... yes, Sir... I want you... please," she pleaded softly. But it was still not enough.

"Tell me what you want. What you want me to do. Now." I ordered, continually moving against her.

"Uhhh," she moaned, throwing her back against me again. "I want," she took a deep breath, "I want you to fuck me... I want you inside me... please... please..."

That was better. Almost there. Just a little more.

"How do you want me, Isabella?" I teased. "Soft and slow, like we did this morning in your bed? Hmm?" Then I lowered my voice and growled in her ear, asking her, but telling her what I really wanted. "Or hard, and fast," I said, biting her neck until she gasped, "fucking you until you scream my name?"

"Yes, Sir... yes, that's what I want... hard... fast... please... oh please, inside me now, please..."

Her begging inflamed me, as it always did, pushing me close to the edge, and I could wait no longer. I positioned myself just underneath her, and pulled her hips down, letting her sink down on me, until she was sitting back on my lap. We both groaned loudly at how amazing it felt, and I whispered in her ear one last time.

"Put your hands on the arms of my chair, and hold on. I'm gonna fuck you hard, baby."

She did as I asked, and I grabbed her hips again, thrusting up into her as I pulled her deeper onto me. I pushed her up, my fingers digging into the flesh of her hips, then slammed her back down. I purposely kept my hands away from her sex, knowing that she wanted my touch, needed it to come, but there would be no release for Isabella.

"Ohhhhhhhh," she groaned on top of me. "Yes... oh yes, oh yes... please, Sir... please..." she begged.

I continued to fuck her, hard and fast as I had promised, pushing up into her, and pulling her down on me. I was so close already.

"I know, baby," I cooed in her ear. "I know what you want... but I won't give it to you now," I whispered. She turned her head slightly to the side, listening closely to what I was saying. "I want you hungry and wanting, for tonight... now make me come, Isabella," I ordered.

She hesitated just a moment, adjusting to my denial, then tightened her muscles on me, squeezing tightly, and slammed down on me. We worked together, me pulling on her hips, her rising up and down quickly. I grunted and groaned, quickly nearing my release. I know she needed hers too, but the thought of her desperation, all afternoon, would please me greatly and ready me for our long evening together.

That thought did it, of her denial, and I pulled her down hard, coming deeply inside her, holding her tightly.

"Fuck, Isabella," I moaned as I continued to twitch inside her. "Yes... Yes."

I held us still for a minute or two, letting my breathing settle, my heart calm. She always felt so fucking good to me, so warm, so soft. I found myself not wanting to leave her body yet again. But I needed some separation, and so did she, even if she didn't know it yet.

"Alright, sweet girl... up... time to stand up." I helped her move off me, getting her balance as she stood, her hips sore from holding her position. I offered her my hands, and she took them graciously, that warm tingle ever present between us. I saw the wetness on her thigh then, the thin line of evidence of my orgasm. I wanted her to leave it there, so she could feel me all afternoon between her legs.

Once she was stable, I stood as well, fixing my pants quickly, then walking us both back around the front of my desk. I leaned down, picking up her coat from where she dropped it on the floor, then held it open for her. She just looked at me, somewhat blankly, and I raised one eyebrow, questioning her hesitation. I didn't want to have to chastise her right now.

Luckily, for both of us, she understood and nodded quickly, sliding her arms into the coat. Once it was on, I wrapped the belt around her middle, sliding my hands around her waist, holding her tightly to me. I smelled her hair, and gently kissed the top of her head. She smelled so good. Always so good.

I turned her around to face me, my hands still around her waist. I loved the feeling of her in my arms.

"I know you're frustrated, my lovely, but that's my choice. That's how I want you today. Tonight, we're going to go to my house, get you settled in. I have some things planned for you this evening. We'll start working on your training, your first lesson." I grinned at her, not wanting her to be scared of me, or worried about what I had planned. I wanted her to be excited and ready, wanting. She seemed to relax a bit. "Later this afternoon, I'll let you know what time to be ready. You don't need to bring anything. Everything you need will be in your room at my home. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir," she said with a soft smile. "Tonight, then."

She seemed resigned to her position, but it didn't worry me. She knew this much at least, what was required of her, from her extensive research. Yes, she had no experience, but she was well read and willing. It was something for me to build on.

I kissed her softly, pressing my lips to hers, warm and soft. It would be hard for me this afternoon as well, just to be away from her for any length of time.

She nodded again, then turned and walked to the door. I could see her stockings and heels beneath the edge of her coat, and I remembered how she looked, what she was wearing underneath. Fuck.

She turned and smiled as she stood in the doorway.

"Until tonight," she said.

"Until tonight, Isabella."

And then she walked out the door.

* * *

><p>I watched the clock for the rest of the afternoon, anxious for the end of the work day. I thought about asking her to stay in my office, knowing that it would be difficult to be away from her so early on in our relationship, but I realized that I would have gotten nothing done. I would have been completely distracted by her, and I would have wanted to take her again and again. I would never get tired of her, never have my fill.<p>

I had told her earlier, before she left my office, that we would be going to my home that evening, so I texted her to tell her to be dressed and ready at five o'clock. It had only been a few hours since I had fucked her, but I wanted her again, so anxious to have her in my whiteroom.

Finally, at 5 o'clock, I left my office and took the elevator down to Isabella's apartment. I knocked on the door and waited. She appeared almost instantly, which was good. She must have been waiting. She was very prompt. I was anxious to test that responsiveness in other ways, so many ways.

She was wearing a short, casual dress, bare legs, and sandals. She looked beautiful and innocent.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Yes, Sir," she said anxiously, ready for whatever I had planned for her. Perfect. Well, almost. One more thing.

"Isabella, before we leave, give me your panties," I ordered, holding out my hand, waiting.

Again, she hesitated, just for a beat or two, cocking her head and giving me a curious look, before reaching under her dress and shimmying out of her underwear and putting them in my outstretched hand. We would have to do something about that hesitation - we needed to address it directly, which I would, soon.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her to me, kissing her softly, then smiling. We took the elevator down to the garage, and I opened the car door for her. I may have been a Dom, but I was also a gentleman.

The drive to my home was quiet. I think we were both stuck in our own heads, going through the events of the day, and wondering about the events to come.

I reached over to touch her, to reassure her with a physical connection between us, and I placed my hand on her bare knee. It was then that I noticed it. Her legs. They were closed again. Damn. I really wanted her to remember, and this was twice now.

"Isabella." My voice was deep and stern. She responded immediately to my change of demeanor.

"Sir?" she asked nervously. She truly had no idea.

"Your legs, Isabella," I said roughly. "Open your legs."

"Yes, Sir," she mumbled softly, her eyes dropping to her lap at my tone, and she parted her legs a few inches.

I sighed heavily. She was just not getting it.

I grabbed her knee tighter and pulled it towards me, hard. Her other leg automatically matched what I had done, opening her up widely, her dress rising up on her thighs.

I plunged my hand between her legs until I was cupping her sex.

"This," I growled, "is _mine_, Isabella." I took in a deep breath and continued. "That's twice now that I've had to tell you." I was driving, so I couldn't look at her the way I wanted to, but I risked a glance and saw her looking down.

"Look at me, Isabella." She looked up, worry and disappointment in her eyes. She would learn. I looked back at the road, glancing back at her every now and then, taking in her beautiful brown eyes. "Next time," I said with all seriousness, "we will have to deal with it." My hand was still between her legs, and I explored a little. She was so warm and wet and ready, as always.

"Fuck," I said, slipping a finger in and out of her, then gliding over her clit. She jumped against me, moaning softly. "Jesus, Isabella," I groaned. "You are so fucking wet."

Finally, we reached my house, and I helped Isabella out of the car. She was nervous now, after my scolding in the car. I lifted her chin with my finger, forcing her to look at me.

"Isabella, don't be worried. You're new. You'll learn. It will take time. We've discussed this, you just need to remember. I'm not mad at you, my lovely, but it's my position to let you know when you're not acting appropriately, to teach you. All right?"

She seemed to relax a bit then, so I smiled, holding her hand in mine, and walked her into my home. I gave her a quick tour of the house, the ground floor, which included the foyer, the living room, den, dining room, and kitchen. I had a theater room at the far right, and a large patio and swimming pool outside, but we could look at that later. I wanted her upstairs.

As we reached the second floor, I took her all the way to the end of the left wing, to my room. The right wing was only guest bedrooms, and we could look at that later, as well. We stood at the door, and she looked in, so curious. Large king sized bed, dark wooden furniture, mushroom painted walls, hardwood floors. I would rarely, almost never, invite one of my subs to sleep in my private domain, so this was usually as far as most would ever get. The doorway.

We moved along the hallway, to the next closed door. I kept walking.

"We'll come back to that in a minute," I said with a wink, as we made our way to the next room. I opened the door and gestured for her to enter.

"This is your room." She walked in slowly, looking around at everything she could put her eyes on. The room was nicely sized, painted that same dark, mushroom color as the bedroom in the apartment at my office building, with the same creamy, white trim. The floors were a dark hardwood, highly polished, and covered with a huge, thick rug. The full sized bed was off to the left, covered with a thick, ivory linens. The far right wall was all windows with a beautiful view of the nighttime sky - twinkling stars and verdant, rolling countryside. It was a very comfortable room.

"It's... beautiful," she said to me, with a small smile and a blush. I pulled her to me, and kissed her softly.

"I'm glad you like it. I'll let you settle in there later. For now, I want to show you one, last room." I grinned then, my arousal growing, knowing that we were so close to where I wanted to be with her, what I had fantasized about for so long. "Come," I said, pulling her back down the hallway to the closed door. I pulled a key ring out of my pocket, and I unlocked the door, swinging it wide open.

I squeezed her hand, reassuring her, then pulled her inside with me.

"This, Isabella," I said gesturing across the room with a wicked grin, "is my whiteroom. This," I breathed deeply, "is where I will take you, in every possible way."

She was nervous, I could tell. Her breathing was fast and shallow, her eyes travelling quickly around the room, trying to absorb everything she was seeing.

It was an average room, nothing obvious inside to immediately give away its purpose. Same dark, hardwood floors as the other bedrooms, same dark, mushroom-colored walls, same creamy, white trim. Another large, thick rug covering a majority of the floor. The bed was a large, dark wood four-poster bed, same thick off-white linens. When I find something I like, I stick with it. A tall, wide chest of drawers, and a bedside table on each side of the bed, to match the rest of the furniture in the room.

I looked at Isabella, and she looked curious. I wanted her to feel comfortable, so I decided to invite her to quench her thirst for information.

"Questions, Isabella? You may ask."

"Um," she started immediately, her mind trying to form the first question correctly, respectfully. "Why, um, do you call it the 'white room'? It's, um, not painted white? I don't understand."

I smiled at her. This was always the first question. I put a finger under her chin and raised her face to mine. I stroked my thumb across her bottom lip, then met her eyes. They were wide and dark, her pupils dilated with arousal. She was hungry for me. Just a little longer, my dear. Just a little longer.

I pressed my lips to hers once, then nibbled my way up her jaw, her ear.

"It's because, my sweet Isabella," I whispered in her ear. "White is the color of your submission. This is where you will give yourself to me, completely." And I pulled back to look at her, to see her expression.

She took a quick, sharp breath, and bit her bottom lip. Fuck, that drove me insane. I didn't know why, but it did, and I grabbed her chin, squeezing her mouth until she released that lip. Then I crushed my mouth on hers, open and hungry and violent, wanting her warm, wet tongue.

After a few moments, I pulled back, leaving both of us hungry and gasping.

Isabella seemed dizzy, a little unsure on her feet, so I held onto her while she got her bearings. She looked at me quizzically.

"So... no playroom then?"

"No," I chuckled. "No playroom. But," I said with a grin. "I have my whiteroom. And I am not an obvious Dom. What I mean is, I'm not the same as other Doms. I'm a little... different."

"Why not in your bedroom... or in my bedroom then? This looks like a regular room." She didn't understand, and that was to be expected. She hadn't yet seen the special features of my whiteroom.

I smiled down at her, gently stroking the soft skin along her jaw, her cheek.

"This room isn't what it seems, Isabella." I held out my hand to her, which she readily took, and I pulled her in to the bedroom, over to the bed. I reached down between one bedpost and the mattress and pulled out a nylon restraining strap, showing it to her.

"There are several of these mounted along the bottom of the bed. They are easily hidden, for privacy, and easily retrieved when needed." I looked at her directly then, wanting to see her reaction to what I said next. "I'll use these to bind you to the bed."

She didn't move or flinch, but I could see that beautiful pink color rising in her cheeks. She wanted to look away from me, the intensity uncomfortable for her, I could tell, but I held her gaze. When she started biting on that bottom lip, I raised one eyebrow at her, and she stopped, dropping her eyes in supplication.

I took her hand again and pulled her along to the other side of the room, to the large chest of drawers against the wall. The piece was beautiful, dark wood, simple lines, lots of drawers of different sizes. I opened the top drawer.

"This," I showed Isabella, "holds my toys."

She looked cautiously into the first drawer, not really understanding what she was seeing, with her limited experience, but she must have had some idea, because she blushed furiously, and nodded. Her eyes were still bright and wide, so I knew she was getting into this, that she wanted it.

"May I ask another question, Sir?"

"Of course, Isabella." She asked so respectfully, I couldn't turn her down.

"Where do you keep your canes, whips, crops, floggers... that sort of thing. I don't see them on the wall, or anywhere."

Ah. My girl was so perceptive.

"Isabella, I've told you before that I am not a regular Dom, that I am not like others. That I like particular things, things that are meaningful to me. We've discussed this. You've seen my limits sheet." I took a deep breath, running my hand through my unruly hair. "I don't have any of those things," I said simply. "I'm not into that kind of pain or punishment. It does nothing for me. What interests me is control, having control over another person, in all ways. That's what I do."

She was very quiet then, very thoughtful. I could tell she was again buried deep in her own mind, thinking through everything she had just seen, everything I had just told her. I gave her a minute to digest it all.

"Any other questions, Isabella?" She shook her head quickly. "No?" I smiled to myself. She would have more questions later, of that I was sure. "All right then. Please take a quick shower in the attached bathroom. That is the bathroom you will use when we are here, in the whiteroom." She nodded again. Curious, she wasn't speaking suddenly. Was she nervous? Anxious? Only time would tell. "Okay, after your shower, meet me back here, at the foot of this bed, in 20 minutes. Understand?" Isabella quickly nodded, again.

Okay, now I had to leave, occupy myself in some way for 20 minutes.

I waited until she had closed the bathroom door, placing a large floor pillow on the floor at the foot of the bed, and then I turned and walked out, down the hall, to my bedroom. I decided to hop into the shower myself, and although I desperately wanted to relieve the pressure in my titanium hard dick, I decided to wait for my beautiful Isabella, so I showered quickly.

When I got out, I slipped on a pair of old jeans. They rode low on my hips, and that, combined with my lack of underwear, well... I looked hot. Plus, it _felt _good, the rough denim brushing on my over-sensitive skin. It was difficult to shove my erection into my pants, but I managed, thinking only of Isabella, and how she would help me take care of my little problem. I brushed my teeth, ran my hand through my hair a couple of times, staring at myself in the mirror.

It was time. I needed to get ready, to get my mind right. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, relaxing. I went over again in my mind what I wanted to do tonight, what I wanted to accomplish. It was her first night, really. The previous night didn't really count. That was just sex. Incredible, unbelievable sex, but just sex. Tonight, we would start to test each other's limits, give each other what we really needed.

I couldn't fucking wait.

I walked back down the hall, slowly and purposefully, knowing what I wanted, and knowing that I was about to get it. I checked my watch outside the door. It was 25 minutes since I told her to meet me back here. Perfect. I wanted to make her wait a bit.

I opened the door and walked in.

Isabella was on her knees on the pillow at the foot of the bed, sitting back on her heels. Her back was straight, her hands were clasped behind her back, and her eyes were cast down to the floor. Her knees were spread wide on the pillow, exactly as I wanted - she finally remembered. Perfect. Fucking perfect.

She was wearing the robe I had put on the back of the bathroom door, a sapphire blue silk robe, exactly like the one I had placed at her apartment in my building. I intended for her to wear both robes in exactly these situations, which I had told her last night. Lovely.

I couldn't wait any longer. My cock was throbbing and aching in my jeans, and I knew that I had to come quickly so that I would have some staying power for the rest of the night. I walked towards her, until I was standing right in front of her.

"Very nice, Isabella. Very, very nice." I stroked her hair softly with one hand. "You are absolutely beautiful and perfect." I ran my fingers across her cheek, the soft, tight skin of her jaw. "And I want you so much right now, my beautiful. So much, that I think I can no longer wait. I have to have you now, before we even begin." I put my finger under her chin, and lifted her face to me. "Look at me, Isabella," I commanded.

She looked up at me through her eyelashes, those big brown eyes, so dark with desire for me and only me, and I almost came right there, just from that look. I took a deep, steadying breath.

I tapped the bottom of her chin twice.

"Open."

She immediately complied, opening her soft, warm lips to me, but it was not enough.

"More. Wider."

She opened more, and I could see her wet, little tongue inside, so anxious to feel what it would do to me. So I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock. I was so fucking hard and aching then, so desperate to come. I placed the head of my cock just touching her bottom lip.

"I need to come, Isabella, before we do anything else. So suck my cock, be a good girl and give me what I want. And if you do, I'll give you a little reward." I was planning on rewarding her anyway, but I wanted to give her some incentive.

She nodded slightly, and I pushed the head of my cock into her mouth.

She immediately ran her tongue right across the head and into the leaking slit, and I almost combusted right then and there.

"Fuck, Isabella!" I gasped. "Take it slow. Jesus, you're trying to kill me," I muttered under my breath. I could see a small smile on the corners of her lips.

I knew this wouldn't take long, but I really had to harness some control. I took a deep breath.

Isabella pulled my swollen head just inside her lips, sucking softly, using her tongue and lips. It was slow, and delicious, and felt amazing. Each pass, she would take a little more of me in her mouth, deeper and deeper inside. So good. The suction, her warm, tight lips, the slick wetness of her tongue. Every few strokes, she would pull completely off and work the head with her tongue, then plunge my cock deeply back into her mouth. It was an amazing feeling... the perfect rhythm, the perfect combination of sensations.

Then, she started to relax her lips a bit, and on the strokes where she pulled back, she would allow her teeth to lightly scrape my tender skin.

"Fuck," I hissed. My legs were starting to shake, and I was clenching my fists at my side, desperate to touch something.

"Isabella, look at me." My voice was deep and rough. She had to hear the difference in my tone.

She immediately lifted her head, but never missed a beat while sucking me, her mouth continuing to work my hard heat. She looked up at me through her long, dark eyelashes again, her eyes so dark and wide, and it fucking killed me. That was all I could take.

I grabbed her head, roughly shoving my fingers into her hair, and slammed my cock hard, back down her throat.

_"Goddamn_ it, Isabella," I growled as I quickly fucked her pretty, little face. "You feel so fucking good. Your mouth... your fucking mouth... _Jesus_."

She held her position and kept her lips tightly wrapped around me. That's about all she _could _do, I was doing everything else. She just had to hang on and wait for me to come. Which, at this rate, wasn't going to take very long.

"Isabella," I said strongly. She was still looking at me, which was good. "I'm about to come. Right before I do, I'm going to pull out, and I want you to open your mouth and keep it open. Got it?" She nodded quickly, as much as she could.

"Good girl," I said, holding her head tighter and increasing my pace. Her mouth was so fucking warm and tight and perfect. "You like that, my lovely? Hmm? Your Master fucking your hot little mouth? Tell me." I knew she couldn't tell me, but I wanted to see what she would do.

"Mmmmmmm hmmmmmmm," she hummed in response, and that feeling, that vibration around my cock, that was it. I pulled my cock quickly out of her mouth.

"I'm going to come. Open your mouth," I ordered harshly, stroking my cock in my hand.

She was breathing deeply, a pink flush over her chest, creeping up her neck to her face. She was aroused. I couldn't wait to see how fucking wet she was. Tied to my bed, spread-eagled, helpless...

"_Fuck_!" That was all it took, that image, and I exploded, my come landing in hot streams across Isabella's lips and tongue and chin. I stroked my cock a few times, slowly, wanting to get everything I could out of this amazing orgasm. The next would be hers. But not for a while.

When I was finally done, I looked back at my beautiful girl, kneeling before me, eyes turned up to mine, her face covered with my issue. She looked _amazing_. I ran my thumb across her lip, wetting it in my come, and I slipped it between her lips. She quickly and eagerly sucked it into her mouth.

"Beautiful," I whispered to my girl, stroking her soft hair.

"Now, stand up, baby, give me your hand." I held my hand out for her, helped her balance while she stood. She wobbled for a moment, quickly gaining her bearings. I brought her hand to my mouth and pressed my lips against her knuckles.

"Thank you, Isabella," I said softly. "That was fantastic." I gave her a small smile, and she smiled back, pleased that I was pleased. "Why don't you go into the bathroom and clean up quickly, then meet me back in here."

While she was in the bathroom, I sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

She was back in seconds. It was as if she knew I didn't want to be kept waiting. She was very responsive.

She stood before me, curious as to what was next. I patted the bed next to me, encouraging her to sit.

"Come, Isabella. Sit here, next to me. Let's talk for a minute." I didn't want her to fear me. I never wanted that. I wanted her respect, but never her fear. I wanted to explain to her exactly what I was about to do, so that she would know what to expect, wouldn't be frightened.

She sat next to me, face clean and soft and smelling like soap. She was still wearing that blue robe, and I was itching to get it off of her, to see her.

"Okay, so far?" She nodded. "Good. Now, I know that you have no experience with any of this, so I'm going to go slowly with you. I want to start to teach you about control." She started to open her mouth to say something or ask a question, but I stopped her with my hand. "Yes, I have control over you, your mind, your body. But I need for you to have control as well, over your own body, and in a certain way, over mine. You need to learn to control your body's response to me, to control your orgasms, to hold out as long as you can. The more you can do that, the more pleasurable it will be for both of us. Yes?"

She nodded, smiling. She looked so eager, so sweet, and I couldn't resist. I leaned down and kissed her softly, just barely pressing my lips to hers, but then she parted her lips and ran her tongue slowly across my bottom lip, asking permission. I moaned softly and deepened the kiss, loving the way her tongue felt against mine, how her mouth tasted, the noises she made when I kissed her.

Finally, I had to pull away, to get back to the subject at hand. I was after all, talking about control, and here I was, showing none.

I took a deep breath.

"Okay, to help you with this lesson, I'm going to bind you to my bed, but, Isabella, I want you to know this: I am not going to hurt you, okay?" I was looking into her eyes, making sure she felt my sincerity. I needed her to trust me.

She nodded her head.

"No, tell me. I need to hear that you understand me."

"Yes, Sir, I understand. You're going to tie me up, but it won't hurt."

"That's right, Isabella. Good girl. You have nothing to fear from me, ever. Even when you mess up and we have to deal with your indiscretions, I do not want you to fear me. I am _not _a pain-seeking Dom."

"Yes, Sir. I understand," she answered again. Okay, enough talk.

"One last thing. I want you to remember your safewords, and don't hesitate to use them if you need them. That's what they are for. I have to be able to trust that you will tell me, Isabella. Trust goes both ways here, okay?"

"Yes, Sir, I understand," she said, her voice soft and breathy. She was so eager.

"All right. Take off that robe and climb up on the bed for me, on your back."

I walked over to the sound system on top of the wooden dresser and I turned on some music, softly, in the background. I pulled a few items out of one of the drawers, then turned and walked back to the bed.

Isabella was there, naked, spread on my whiteroom bed. Fuck me, she looked unbelievable. My cock immediately started to harden again.

"Oh Isabella, you look so fucking beautiful, naked and spread on my bed. In my whiteroom. I have wanted you here, like this, since I first saw you."

I walked to the head of the bed, and took her left hand in mine. I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist, then snapped the wide leather cuff around it. It was snug, but not tight enough to hurt or cause problems with circulation. I attached the metal ring on the cuff to the nylon strap, adjusting to what I thought would be an appropriate length. I repeated the process on her right wrist, her right ankle, and her left ankle, kissing her soft skin before I secured her. I stood for a moment, just looking, assessing, then walked around the bed, adjusting the straps until she was evenly bound on each limb, stretching her out just enough. I wanted to have control of her limbs, give her one less thing to have to think about. I wanted her to concentrate on other areas of her body. And, if I was being honest, it fucking turned me on to see her like this. Bound. Helpless. And hungry. She was already pulling on the straps, very little, but just testing their strength. Her nipples were hard, and her hips were slowly moving. I think she was trying to pull her thighs together, to get some modicum of relief. Oh poor girl, no. Not anytime soon.

I kept my pants on, purposely to help me keep control of myself. I would take them off later, when it was time to fuck her, but for now, I needed to show her what I could do for her.

I sat on the bed next to her and stroked the underside of her left arm, from her wrist to her underarm, back and forth. I would have loved to do this with her blindfolded, but I thought she needed the comfort of that sense for her first time. I really didn't want to scare her. I trailed my fingertips across her collarbone, up her neck, her chin, across her lips. She turned her head towards me, opening her lips for my fingers, like a hungry bird. I quickly pulled them away.

"No, no, little bird. You'll get yours later." I grinned at her, seeing her frustration building, and so soon. Oh, it was going to be a long night.

I ran my fingers across her breasts, avoiding her nipples, just barely touching the sensitive skin underneath, in circles, closer and closer to the middle, but never touching.

"Oh please..." she moaned.

Hmm, begging already. Lovely. I chuckled.

This time, I let my fingers just barely graze her hard nipples, the flesh immediately tightening at my touch, and she pushed her chest up into my hand. So desperate.

I repeated the move, over and over, until I thought she couldn't take anymore. I circled her nipple with my thumb, watching it pucker and tighten more beneath me. I took it between my thumb and forefinger, rolling at first, then gently squeezing and pulling.

"Ohhhhhh, God yes... please... please... " she moaned and begged.

I squeezed harder, pinching the hard flesh between my fingers, slowly increasing the pressure, waiting to see what her limit was.

Finallly, she screamed out, a gurgled moan that she had been holding in, and I immediately backed off. I needed to learn her body and what she could take.

I repeated the process with her other nipple, loving the way she blushed and bit her lip, tossing her head from side to side, still pulling at her arms and legs, trying to get into a position that gave her some relief.

I climbed up onto the bed, settling between her knees, and I hovered over her body. I pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her lips, smiling at her hungry tongue that peeked out as I pulled away from her. She was going to be a lot of fun.

I leaned down and took one of her nipples into my mouth. Softly at first, my lips, my tongue, circling, tasting. She moaned deliciously and that sound went straight to my crotch, remembering how it felt when she did that with my cock in her mouth. I went back to her hard nipple, taking it gently between my teeth, biting softly.

"Oh fuck, yes... " she groaned, squirming on the bed the best that she could.

I licked and sucked and bit, a little harder each time with my teeth - again, testing her limits, earning her trust, seeing how far I could go. When her moans turned in tone, I would stop. I knew the sound of real pain, and I didn't like it.

Finally, I started the slow journey down her body, spending time touching, licking, sucking on the skin on her soft, flat stomach. I circled my tongue around her navel before dipping in and out. Her hips lifted off the bed towards me, and she begged again.

"Oh _God_, please, Sir... please, please, _please_..."

I looked up at her.

"Please what, Isabella?" I asked with a grin. "Is there something you want?"

"Oh _please _touch me Sir... _please_..." she groaned.

"Isabella, I am touching you. Did you want me to touch you somewhere else?"

She huffed softly in frustration. She really didn't even know what frustration was. Not yet, at least.

"Yes, Sir... _please_... I need you to touch me _lower_," she said softly, almost a whisper.

I moved down a little, just above her public bone, and gave her a quick lick.

"Here? Is this what you want, my sweet?"

She mumbled and groaned loudly. Her hips were gyrating wildly now, so desperate for relief.

"N-no, Sir... lower... between my _legs_... Oh fuck, _please_..."

"Say it, Isabella. You know what I'm waiting for. Say it pretty girl, and I'll give you what you want." I said it sternly, but I was just as anxious as she was. I wanted her to hurry up and get there so I could taste her delicious pussy.

"I... I want you to... ugh, _please_... " she was hesitating again, so I stopped touching her. I completely lifted off of her, waiting for her to complete her request before she would feel my touch again. I didn't say anything, just waiting for her to start again.

She cleared her throat.

"I want you to _touch _me.. my... um... _pussy_... with your," she sighed heavily, then started again. "With your _tongue_. Please use your tongue on my pussy, oh God, _please_, Sir... _please_..."

We had just started, and I wanted to fuck her hard already. The delicious blowjob was helpful, but my cock was rock hard again, and I was ready for relief.

But this _was _a lesson in control, so I had to control _myself _as well, my body, as well as hers. I took a deep, long breath and released it.

"Very nice, Isabella. Tell me if this is what you wanted," I said, and I leaned down between her legs and pressed my lips to her clit, kissing softly, then letting my tongue slide around in circles. Oh God, she was so fucking wet already, and the smell of her heat, Jesus, it was killing me. I sucked her clit into my mouth, pulling on it tightly and she bucked her hips up to my mouth and moaned.

"_Yes_! Oh God, yes, please more... please don't stop, _please_... "

I returned to her clit, but softly this time, barely touching her swollen skin, just teasing... up and down, round and round, listening to her breathing as it increased. She was almost panting now. I slid one of my hands up her leg to the inside of her leg, the soft, tender skin of her thigh, and just as I sucked her clit back into my mouth, hard, I pinched the skin on the inside of her thigh. She screamed and flinched, but the scream quickly turned into a soft, hungry moan.

I slid my hand up between her legs and slipped a finger inside her, sliding it slowly in and out, and returned my tongue between her legs.

She started moaning loudly, tossing her head back and forth, her arms and legs pulling on her bindings. I increased my pace a little, knowing what I wanted, and waiting for her to get there.

Not long after, I heard it. A change in her breathing. She was starting to tighten on the finger I had inside her. She was close to coming.

"Isabella, are you close?" I asked.

"Oh... yes... yes, Sir. So close... please don't stop... please..." she begged.

So of course, I immediately stopped, giving her a minute or two to regain her control. Once she had, I explained what I was doing.

"Isabella, remember, this is about control. You need to learn your own body and know the signs... When you are getting close to coming, what you can do to hold off. I just did it for you, but next time, you need to let me know when you get to that point, and I'll stop. We'll do that a few times, then see if you can hold off yourself, without me stopping. Okay?"

She took in a deep, shuddering breath, slowly releasing it, then opened her eyes to look at me.

"Okay... yes, Sir. I'll try." Then she gave me a tiny smile. My beautiful girl.

I leaned back down and took her hard nipple in my mouth, starting the whole cycle over at the beginning, until I was back down between her legs, licking and sucking, my finger sliding inside her tight, wet heat.

This time, when it got to be too much, she told me to stop, respectfully of course, and I did. I was proud of her. I knew how much she needed to come, and that she had no control, but she was willing to try. She had already come so far, pleased me so much.

So we did it again. And again. And again. Over and over, I brought her right to the edge of her orgasm, and pulled her back. I didn't use any toys on her, not tonight. Tonight was just about concentrating on her body, how I could make her feel, and her growing control.

The sounds she was making were become unintelligible, and I realized that I had pushed her enough for tonight. She had done so well, and I didn't want her to have a slip up and feel disappointment on her first night. So I decided it was time for her orgasm.

We had just stopped, with Isabella right on the edge yet again, and she was breathing deeply, trying to calm herself down, control her breathing and her body. I couldn't fucking wait to hear her scream my name. Yes, I needed it.

I gave her a minute or two, and then I crawled off the bed and sat on the side, so I could talk to her for a minute. She turned her head and looked at me. She looked wild. Her hair was spread all over the bed, and tiny strands were stuck to her face with perspiration. Her eyes were wide and dark, her pupils dilated. Her cheeks were flushed, her lip, swollen from her biting, from either concentration or frustration. It was definitely time.

"Isabella, I'm going to remove the cuffs on your ankles, now, okay? I want you to know what I'm doing."

She nodded slowly, her brow furrowed. She was trying to figure out the game, what was next.

I moved down to the end of the bed, and I unbuckled the cuff from one ankle, rubbing it softly first, before releasing it, then repeating the process with the other. She immediately bent her knees and pulled her legs up, Squeezing her thighs together. But I forgave her this time.

"Ah, ah, ah, Isabella. Open those legs back up." And I gave her a quick slap on her thigh as a reminder. She jumped a little, not expecting that sting, but she immediately complied and spread her legs.

"That's my girl," I praised her, and softly rubbed the skin on her thigh where I had smacked her.

I climbed back up on the bed, positioned back between her legs again, then hovering over her.

I leaned down and gave her a slow, sensual kiss. My lips, mouth, tongue, and face were all fresh with her arousal, but it didn't deter her in the least. She kissed me back, hungrily, so desperate, always wanting more. I chuckled and pulled back to look at her.

"You've done so well tonight, Isabella. I'm so proud of you."

She smiled shyly and blinked her eyes a few times, but I could tell that she was pleased too.

"So I've decided to give you a little reward." She stopped fidgeting and looked up at me with the sweetest combination of hope and desperation. I was so fucking hard that my cock was becoming really uncomfortable in my pants.

I leaned down and kissed her jaw, her neck, moving slowly to ear.

"Would you like to come, sweet Isabella? Hmm? Tell me, pretty girl," I whispered, then pulled back to see her expression.

"Oh my God," she said softly, tears forming in her eyes.

I was immediately concerned. What did I do to make her cry? What had I done wrong? Shit.

"What? Baby, what did I do, what's the matter? Oh, please don't cry, pretty girl, please don't cry." I softly stroked her face, chastely kissed her sweet mouth, wanting her to calm. I pulled back to look at her again.

"Okay, now? Can you tell me?" I spoke gently, softly, wanting her to know that we were on the same side, that I wanted what she wanted, even though I was her Dom. That I cared for her.

She nodded and took a deep, shuddering breath. One lone tear escaped from her eye and ran down the side of her face. That was one tear too many, in my opinion. I wiped it gently away with my thumb. I found that I wanted to taste it, taste her tears, but now was not the time.

"I'm sorry, I - " She started, but I immediately interrupted her.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Isabella. Please, just tell me what's wrong, why you were crying."

She nodded and started again.

"I... I was just overwhelmed, I guess... so much... so much feeling... physical, and..." she hesitated then, like she didn't want to continue.

"Emotional? Was that what you were going to say?" I prompted. I knew what she was going through.

"Yes," she nodded, seeming relieved that I had said it, and she didn't have to. "I was feeling very emotional. I needed... to, um, come... so badly for so long, and I was trying so hard to control myself, like you said. I want to please you so much," she stated, looking directly in my eyes. She wanted to make sure I understood.

"I know, baby," I said soothingly, still softly stroking her face. "It's okay... I'm so honored that you are giving me this gift." She cocked her head, looking at me like she didn't understand.

"Isabella, submission is a gift, a very rare and special gift, and I take it very seriously. I'm honored that you would give that to me, and I plan to hold it in the highest regard."

Her entire body relaxed then, and I think that I might have helped her to understand just a little bit more. It would come, with time.

So I smiled at her, well, grinned actually. Kind of a devilish grin.

"So... do you think you're ready to continue, then?"

She paused for a second, then realized what I meant and she jumped, her eyes popping open.

"Yes, oh yes, Sir, I'm ready! Oh please, please... so, so ready," she said earnestly, with a small smile playing on her lips.

"Very good," I said, trying to be more serious, but not completely succeeding. I was anxious too.

I leaned back down to her chest and sucked her sweet nipple back into my mouth, licking and biting until she moaned. Then moving to the other, repeating the cycle.

I climbed back between her knees and moved quickly down her stomach, wanting to get to where we both wanted me to be. She was so wet, so fucking wet. I grabbed her thighs and pushed them up and out, towards her body.

"Isabella, now that I've released your legs, I'm trusting you. I need you to do exactly what I say, okay?" She nodded quickly. "Keep your legs pulled open like this, Isabella. Up and back. As wide as you can."

I removed my hands, and she readjusted a little, but kept her legs in place.

I buried my face between her legs, immediately licking and sucking her swollen and aching clit in my mouth. Sucking, swirling. So fucking delicious. I lifted my head briefly to tell her something.

"Not yet, Isabella, I'll let you know when. Use your control."

I returned to my spot between her legs, sliding my tongue down further between her legs, slipping into her hot, wet heat, then back up to where she wanted me. I slid a finger inside her, as I had done before, moving it slowly in and out. She was lifting her lips, higher and higher. I had to move my head, change my position, to keep up with her. She was moaning now, no words, just soft, constant moans. I knew she was close, but she was waiting for me, as I had asked.

I slid the finger out that I had inside her and let it drift father down between her legs, lightly brushing over her back entrance. She flinched and moaned loudly then, but it was a good noise, not a "don't go there" noise. So I did it again, and she moaned again, but didn't move away from me.

I sucked her clit back into my mouth, running my tongue in circles around it, letting my finger explore.

She started lifting her hips again, pulling her body up so that I almost couldn't reach her. What was she doing, what did she want from me? Was she just so desperate to come that she couldn't control her body any more? I lightly licked her clit, just barely touching her, and I removed my other hand from her body. I wanted to see what she would do. She lifted her hips, slowly and deliberately, until my tongue was where my finger had been.

Then I heard her.

"Please..." She said it so softly, I could barely hear her. It was more like a breath. Oh fuck, this was good. She wanted my tongue on her ass. My sweet, innocent Isabella, wanted me to rim her. Well, she came to the right place. But of course, it wouldn't be that easy.

"What, sweet girl, what do you want? Tell me."

"I want your tongue," she started. I thought that she sounded a little more confident when she was this desperate. "I want it down there... between my legs... where your finger was... please... that felt so good... please..." Well, that was the most detail she had ever given me without prodding, and she had done so well tonight, and I had pushed her so far already. So I caved.

"Where, sweet girl?" I asked, my finger moving quickly between her legs. I knew exactly what she wanted. I only wanted to push her just a bit further. "Here, baby?" I said as I stroked that tight, pink skin. "Is this where you want my tongue?" My finger was still wet from her, and I circled it around, feeling her constrict and relax against me.

"Oh God, yes, please... please right there... please... I need to come so badly, please..." She sounded so fucking hot when she begged and that did me in. I needed my fucking release now, I needed my cock deep inside her somewhere, and soon.

So I went back down between her legs, starting with her wet pussy, her swollen clit, sliding into her slick entrance, getting my tongue nice and wet, then lower, slowly, circling, closer and closer. She was grinding her hips in the air now, unable to stop herself, but I was following her, keeping up with her rhythm. When my tongue finally traced across her back entrance, she screamed, loudly. No words, just desperate, hungry moans.

I used my tongue there as I had on her clit, licking in circles, sucking, tasting... I used the flat of my tongue for long swipes, then just the point to circle and tease. At one point, I slid my middle finger inside her pussy, slowly moving it in and out, then pressed my thumb down on her clit, keeping it down, and rubbing it from side to side.

I think that did it.

"_Fuck_!" she screamed. "Oh fuck, Yes! Yes! _Yes_!" Her head was thrashing back and forth against the mattress, and she was grinding herself against my face. I think I was making some noises myself at that point. Wet noises and moans. She was so delicious. Her submission was sublime.

And then her entire body lifted off the bed, her limbs going rigid, and she gave a little shake or two, more than a tremble. She let out a long, strangled moan that seemed to go on forever. I kept up my ministrations, wanting to extend her pleasure for as long as possible.

Finally, she calmed. She was breathing hard, and her eyes were closed as she muttered softly to herself.

I slowly removed my finger and lifted up from between her legs, wiping my face on my forearm. God, she was beautiful. Her skin was flushed a beautiful shade a pink, and she was covered in a light sheen of sweat. Tendrils of her hair were stuck to her face, and her lips were red and swollen, probably from biting.

I climbed off the bed and removed my jeans. I needed to fuck her, and now. I couldn't wait a second longer. And I wouldn't last long, that I knew.

I climbed back up, kneeling back between her legs where I was before. I just watched her for a minute, amazed again at my incredible luck. I put my hands back on her thighs, pushing them back and out again. I kept one hand on one thigh, keeping her position, and with the other, I grabbed my cock and positioned it just between her legs. I slowly pushed forward, sliding into her deliciously slowly, and about halfway in, she opened her eyes and looked at me with the most adoring expression.

Then she lifted her hips, positioning herself for me, and I pushed all the way in.

"Fuck," I moaned. "You feel so fucking good, baby... I'm gonna go hard and fast, Isabella. This won't take long. I'm so fucking hard for you." I leaned over her, one hand on the bed, the other on one thigh, keeping her where i wanted her. And I started a relentless pace. Immediately fast, hard, and deep. Fucking her into the mattress.

I was growling and groaning and moaning and grunting as I fucked her. Christ, she felt good. I didn't think anything could feel this good, this tight, this hot.

"Isabella," I said through my teeth. "I need you."

She was gasping and panting beneath me and nodded energetically, so willing to do whatever I needed.

"I need you," I gasped, "to tell me who you serve. Tell me. Now."

"I serve _you_, Sir," she moaned. "_You_, and _only _you."

But that was still not what I wanted to hear.

"_No_," I growled in frustration, increasing my pace. "Who am I, Isabella? Who am I to you? What is my _title_? What do you _call _me?" I screamed each word, pumping her furiously, and she looked at me quizzically, when suddenly, recognition flashed across her face. She knew. She knew now what I wanted, what I _needed_.

"You," she said breathlessly, "are my _Master_."

"YES," I roared, "now, fucking _beg _your Master to come inside you..." Fucking hell, I was so close, and I needed her to do this for me, to push me over the edge, and she looked ecstatically happy to do this for me.

"Oh God... Master... My Master," she said, her voice deepening as she tightened her hot pussy around my cock. "Please Master, come inside me... please come for me... _please_." So close, so fucking close.

"Please come in me... Master, _please_!"

That last one was it, the sound of her begging, hearing her call me her Master, it was too much, and I felt my orgasm quickly building, roiling in my stomach, out to my fingers and toes, then suddenly slamming through the rest of my body like an explosion.

I came hard, pressing deep inside her one last time, holding her body tightly to mine while I emptied and twitched inside her. I collapsed, on top of her, unable to hold myself up any longer, panting, gasping, trying desperately to catch my breath.

Finally, I had calmed, and I lifted up enough to look at my girl.

She was covered in sweat, hers and mine, her hair now plastered to her head, but she looked more incredible than I have ever seen her.

"That," I said, still breathing hard, as I softly kissed the tip of her nose. "That was incredible." I kissed her chin. "You were amazing." I kissed her jaw. "Perfect," I whispered in her ear, lifting up again so that I could look at her face. She smiled sweetly at me and just shook her head. I don't think she knew what to say. I kissed her mouth, softly pressing my lips against hers, once, twice, three times, before pulling back again.

This unbelievable creature, lying underneath me with the most adoring expression, was mine. _All mine_. I couldn't seem to believe it. Everything about her was perfect. Her face was perfect, her body was perfect, her attitude was perfect. And most importantly of all, her submission was perfect. I struggled to try to come up with a word, just one word that said everything about her. It took me a moment, but then it occurred to me.

"Beautiful," I said softly, then pressed my lips to hers again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Wow, this was like birthing a baby. I mean, I've had an outline of this chapter for a while, but it was a labor of love getting each piece written. And then, at the end, when I was writing the scene in the whiteroom, I couldn't freaking stop! I just kept writing! If I could write faster, I sure would, and I appreciate all the "gentle proddings" by my readers, begging for the next chapter.**

**Speaking of the next chapter (how's that for a segue!), I think we might see a little (don't get too excited, just a little) of Bella's background, why she was so eager to go 24/7, etc. PLUS, my friend Libby (see below) is a songwriter, and she wrote a song called "Beautiful" – before I wrote this story... and it's AWESOME! It's perfect and it gave me lots of ideas for the story! I'm going to post a link to the song on Facebook when I post the next chapter, which will be a few weeks – yall know how long it takes me to write! I promise I'll try to be quicker, but just fair warning.**

**I especially want to thank all my friends on the Kinkward Lovers Facebook page! Huge supporters of this story and of me, and they make me laugh. And man, are they KINKY! Which is why I LOVE THEM!**

**Thanks and love to my very good friend, MaBarberElla (speaking of kinky), especially for the line "Fucking her into the mattress." She had that in a chapter of her story, "The Cassolette," which is an amazing and super hot Carlisle/Bella story (go check it out on FF dot net!), and I stole it for my story.**

**And extra special super thanks to my best friend, and beta, LibbyLou862, who is the fastest beta in the South, and we fixed all the errors on the phone during commercials while watching the Oscars! (And some this morning, while she was at church... AGAIN!) Libby, you are SOOOOOO awesome, and I love you.**

**And, I wanted to come up with something different for my Edward to call his playroom, since he's such an unusual Dom. So I started searching Thesaurus dot com for words, like for WEEKS. I could never find anything that worked. So yesterday, I texted Libby and told her my dilemma. She came up with FOUR suggestions, literally, and the fourth one was "the white room, because white is the color of her submission." I WAS FLOORED. It was SO perfect! And obviously, I used it. Perfect. Thanks again Libby. You know I can't ever write without you!**

**Thanks... until next time!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: _Mea culpa_ on taking so long to write and post this chapter, but hopefully it's worth the wait - over 12,000 words, the longest chapter I have EVER written. That will either be a really good thing, or a really bad thing.**

**Disclaimer: All things "Twilight" belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. :)**

**Content Warning: Some light exhibitionism, a little toy play (including some very minor anal play). And some scenes of a slightly sexual nature (yeah, that was sarcasm.)**

* * *

><p> <strong>Beautiful, chapter 5<strong>

_It's dark. I don't know where I am. I look around the room, and it's both familiar and strange at the same time._

_The door is closed, but I can hear something in the hallway coming toward me, something menacing, a deep rumbling noise like an animal. I don't know what it is, but I know that it is bad, and that it wants to hurt me._

_The door bursts open, and it comes toward me, stalking me into the room until I am pressed, helpless, cowering in the corner. The light changes, and I can suddenly see it more clearly. It's not an animal after all... it's a man. Long, blonde hair, pulled back into a ponytail. Cold, icy blue eyes._

_My body hurts, everywhere, and I realize that it's because of him, the animal. That he has hurt me._

_He kneels down in front of me and strokes my face with his hand._

_"Please, be strong," he tells me. "One more try... it will be beautiful." He slides his hand behind my neck and pulls me toward him, his face looming closer and closer._

_"Beautiful," he whispers as his lips curve into an evil grin._

_This is when I start to scream._

"Isabella."

I felt his hands on me, holding my upper arms, shaking me, and I fought against them, doing everything I could to get away from him. I screamed and tried to push the hands away, but they wouldn't stop.

"Isabella, wake up. You're dreaming."

The voice had changed - it didn't sound like _him _anymore. It was sweet, smooth, and deep, and the sound of it gave me comfort, made me feel safe. I struggled to open my eyes so that I could see the source of the beautiful voice, but I was afraid. Afraid that it would be the bad man instead.

"Isabella, honey, _please_... you're worrying me."

Finally, I was able to open my eyes, and I panicked for a second or two at the darkness surrounding me, but then I focused on the beautiful voice, the beautiful man, sitting next to me, stroking my arms. It was Edward, my Master. The expression on his face was troubled, his brow furrowed.

"Hey," he said softly, with a sweet, gentle smile. "Are you okay? You were having a nightmare." He brought his hand to my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, with need and relief, and I leaped up into his arms, wrapping myself tightly around his body. I knew it was inappropriate, and that I might be chastised for my forwardness, but I couldn't help it - I needed him. I needed to feel his arms around me, telling me that everything would be okay, that I was safe. I had only known him a little over a week, but I knew that he would never hurt me.

He was surprised at first, unmoving, but then he brought his arms around me, tenderly stroking my hair and my back.

"Shhh," he whispered in my ear. "It's okay, Isabella... It's going to be okay... you're safe... shhh."

He held me for a long time, whispering softly in my ear, his hands moving reassuringly all over my back. There was nothing sexual about it - it was just comforting, assuring. I never felt more cared for in my entire life.

When I had finally calmed, he pulled back to look at me, brushing his thumbs across my face, drying my tears, and he kissed the tip of my nose.

"It's late," he said gently. "You must be tired. Lay back down and try to get some sleep. I'll stay here until you fall asleep."

I took a deep, shuddering breath, and nodded, and I laid back down on the bed. To my surprise, he scooted up right behind me with his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling my body against his. I fell quickly and easily back asleep.

I didn't dream again that night, and when I finally awoke, the sun was streaming through the large window on the far wall. It took me a minute or two to remember where I was and what had happened the previous night, starting with the whiteroom and ending with the nightmare. It was Saturday morning, and I was in my room, my room in Edward's home. He had brought me there to sleep, after uncuffing me and rubbing down my sore muscles and joints. My body was like butter at that point, and I was so tired, I couldn't walk, so he carried me to bed. God, the feeling of him holding me in his arms, it was unlike anything I had ever felt before. He had already given me so much, changed my life completely, my outlook on things, and he was still giving. I had never had a man treat me like that in my entire life, and I was having problems wrapping my head around it.

I sat up in the bed and looked around. It was the first time I was seeing the room in the daylight, and it was bright and warm and clean and comfortable. After I added a few personal touches, which of course, Edward would have to approve, it would be home.

I turned to climb out of the bed and freshen up in the bathroom, and I gasped in surprise. There was a small club chair in the corner of the room, and Edward was sitting in it, fast asleep.

It took me a moment, but I finally realized what that meant, seeing him there. He stayed. He hadn't left my room all night. He was protecting me, watching over me. He was there in case I needed him, and I didn't even know it.

I felt myself quickly becoming emotional, blinking rapidly to stop tears from forming, and I found that I had a lump in my throat, so I swallowed hard, trying to make it go away. I ran into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, staring at my shocked expression in the mirror.

He cared. Edward _cared _for me. I mean, I knew that all Doms cared for their subs on some level, but this seemed different. _He _seemed different. I didn't know what that meant for me, for _us_, but I wasn't going to solve it that morning, so I quickly started my morning routine.

When I came out of the bathroom, he was awake. Rumpled, but awake. He stood up when I entered.

"Good morning," he said with a small smile, his voice still rough from sleep.

"Good morning... um, Master." I blushed as I addressed him by his new, rightful title. He was my Master, in every way, over every part of me, and I was glad that the title change finally came up last night. "Did you sleep okay? That chair doesn't look very comfortable. I feel so badly that you stayed. Does your back hurt? I mean, I'm glad that you stayed, but you didn't have -"

"Isabella!" he said with a chuckle. "Stop!" He walked over to me and pulled me into his arms, his big, soft hands once again softly stroking my hair, my back. "Don't worry about it, sweet girl. I wanted to be here, or I wouldn't have been." He leaned away from me and lifted my chin with his finger, looking deeply into my eyes, his expression becoming more serious. "Are you okay?" he whispered. We both knew what he was talking about.

I looked down, the heat of a fresh blush burning across my cheeks.

"I'm fine," I said softly with a quick nod of my head. I just wanted to change the subject, so I looked up at him with a grin. "But I _am _a bit hungry?"

He assessed my expression for a moment, then grinned at me. "Then eat we shall, my lovely." He took my hand in his, pulling it to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on my knuckles, then he pulled me out into the hallway and down the stairs. "Come with me."

I adored his attentions, but I knew that he was placating me, that the subject of my horrible, screaming nightmare would eventually resurface. I was thankful that he was letting it go for now. I was too exhausted to even comprehend explaining my complicated past to him.

* * *

><p>Breakfast was waiting for us when we arrived in the dining room downstairs, and it was delicious. Scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, hash browns, thick, buttery toast with fresh jam, orange juice, and hot coffee with cream. It was perfect, and I ate more than my usual. During the meal, Edward kept looking up at me, smiling and shaking his head at my enthusiasm.<p>

It was served to us by one of Edward's household staff, an attractive older man with a headful of graying blonde hair, named Carlisle. Edward introduced him to me, explaining that Carlisle had been with him for years, that he and his wife lived in a small apartment off of the first floor, and that they ran the household. Until then, I hadn't realized that anyone else was in the house, but of course, with a home of this size, it must have required a considerable number of people to maintain.

I started to blush furiously, wondering if Carlisle and his wife were able to hear us the night before, in the whiteroom. Edward looked at me curiously, his head cocked slightly to the side. He must have been wondering what I was thinking, what made me suddenly so embarrassed. I would have to discuss it with him later, in some way. There was no way I would be able to do that again if someone else could hear me. Well, unless that was what Edward intended. We did both have "exhibitionism" marked on our checklists, so I knew that was something that he wanted, but I didn't think he would hide it from me like that, with me not knowing. I would have thought that would be part of his control thing, to make sure I _knew _that I was being watched, to see my reaction.

I was also very surprised that he invited me to sit with him, at the dining room table. Everything that I had read online suggested that the submissive either took her meals in another room or at the Dominant's feet. But, of course, as he had told me multiple times, he was not a regular Dom. He was different. I found that, as I learned more about him, I liked these differences. I had absolutely no experience with this lifestyle, but I couldn't imagine it being more perfect that it was with Edward.

When it was time to get up from the table, i started to grab some dishes, to pick up after myself, again, assuming that I would have to do these sorts of tasks, but Edward quickly told me to leave them, that he had staff who would take care of it. Then, he snuck up behind me and whispered in my ear.

"That's not why I have you here, my beautiful girl," he said as he kissed my neck softly. "I have something other for you in mind." And he chuckled again, but this time, the sound made me weak in the knees. "But first," he said a little more seriously, "I thought you might want to go for a walk, explore the grounds a little."

He had wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me against his warm body, so I had to turn to look at him.

"Really?" I asked. "I would love that, but..."

"But what, Isabella?" he asked gently, full of sudden concern.

"I... I don't have any shoes for walking, just the shoes I wore last night... sandals really." I was embarrassed, and I looked at the ground, at my bare feet.

"Isabella," he said with a gentle smile and a soft voice. "I told you that I would provide for you, and I meant it. Everything you need is upstairs in your closet. Now, run upstairs. I want to leave in five minutes."

He was giving me an order, but he still had a playful tone to his voice, so I grinned at him and turned to the stairs. He surprised me by smacking my backside, a quick, loud cracking noise in the cool, marble foyer, and I whipped my head around to look at him, worried that I had displeased him in some way.

But all I saw there was hunger. Desire. For _me_. My eyes darted from his eyes, to his mouth, then back to his eyes. I was a little nervous, and I absently started biting my lip. He was openly staring at my mouth, and he reacted _immediately_.

"_Isabella_." A more serious tone, less playful. "Stop it, right now, or I'll drag you back into the dining room and fuck you on the table, and I don't care who sees me. Now, either bend over the dining room table and pull down your pants, or get your ass upstairs to get your shoes."

He didn't say specifically, but I knew he was talking about me biting my lip. I didn't understand why it turned him on so much, but the look on his face, the sound of his voice, Jesus. It fucking turned me on too. It was all I could do to turn and run up the stairs. Yes, I wanted him to fuck me, right then and there, on the dining room table, but I don't think that was the choice he was really giving me, so I climbed up the stairs as quickly as I could.

The closet in my bedroom was fully stocked, just like the one in my apartment at his office building. Everything I could possibly think of or ever need. I quickly grabbed a pair of athletic shoes from the shelf and a pair of thick socks from the bureau and sat on the bed to put them on.

I was downstairs in minutes. I'm not sure if I was within his five minute window or not, but he didn't seem upset with me, one way or the other. I had grabbed a sweater as well, in case it was cool outside, and I had it tied around my waist.

"Ready?" he asked, his mood considerably lighter. I nodded quickly. "Okay, let's go."

I followed him through the house, across the large, comfortable kitchen, and out a back door. There was a large wooden deck that spanned almost the entire back of the house, complete with comfortable, but casual outdoor furniture, an outside kitchen, and a generous overhang for shade in warmer weather. We walked to the edge of the deck to a set of stairs, and he grabbed my hand to help me as I walked down. Those few seconds holding his warm, soft hand were thrilling to me, and I immediately found myself anxious to touch him again.

The lawn was impeccably manicured, of course, and seemed to go on forever. There was a large, thick wooded area behind the house, and we headed that way. I thought he wanted to show me the grounds, but maybe he changed his mind, which was, after all, his right, so I kept my mouth shut, following along right behind him. I noticed that he was wearing a backpack, which I hadn't seen him put on, and I wondered what he was carrying inside.

Every few minutes, he would turn around and look at me, checking that I was okay, that he hadn't lost me, that I hadn't tripped, which was, unfortunately, a distinct possibility. He didn't really know about my clumsiness, but he would soon enough. No need to bring it up prematurely.

We walked for over an hour without stopping, and I had to wonder where he was taking me. He wasn't walking casually, if that were even possible. He seemed to be walking with purpose, with direction, like he had a specific destination in mind. Every now and then, he would stop and give me his hand, to help me step over a large branch, or a fallen tree, or a ditch, anything that he deemed treacherous. It was sweet, and it made me feel like I felt last night... cared for. Such an unusual thing for me. I wondered if I would ever get used to that.

At one point, he turned and grinned at me, and then stepped through another thicket of bushes before disappearing from my sight. I started to panic, but after I pushed through the bushes, I found myself in a large clearing, and Edward was right there waiting for me.

The clearing was perfectly symmetrical, a large round meadow in the middle of the forest. The sun was shining and streaming down upon us, and the wind was blowing just enough to keep us cool. The floor of the meadow was covered with long, green grass and colorful wildflowers. It was absolutely beautiful, and I just stood there for a moment, trying to absorb it all. I realized then that Edward had brought me here, to show me this stunning place, and I turned to look at him. He was looking at me with a huge grin on his face, anticipating my reaction.

"Oh, Master, it's beautiful!" I told him. "Did you... did you... _make _this?" He looked at me curiously, like he didn't understand my question, so I continued. "It's so perfect. Perfectly round. I've never seen anything like this occur naturally. And of course, the flowers are so beautiful, and only here, so I thought maybe..."

"No, I didn't make it," he chuckled. "Completely produced by Mother Nature herself." He was being playful, and I liked him playful. But I also liked him when he was a little angry. And demanding. And controlling. And aroused. And desperate. Oh God, last night, when he was about to come, and he growled at me, telling me that he _needed _me, needed me to call him Master. I could feel that familiar ache starting between my legs, so desperate already for him to touch me again.

He held his hand out to me, so I gave him mine, and we walked, hand in hand, around the edge of the meadow, until we had completed the circle. Then, we walked to the middle of the meadow, and he removed the backpack, pulling out two bottles of water, handing one to me, and a large, plaid blanket. He spread the blanket out on the ground, which was not easy to do over the thick, long grass, and hopped down on it, laying on his back with his knees up, gazing thoughtfully at the sky. He patted the blanket next to him, so I quickly joined him, laying on my back next to him.

We laid there for a while, not speaking, just staring at the sky, listening to the birds singing and the wind as it rustled through the trees and the thick grass. His fingertips traced small circles on the back on my hand, and I was grateful for the physical connection between us. It was hard to concentrate on the sights and sounds, however, because all I could think about was him touching me, his hand moving up my body, under my shirt, between my legs. Jesus, I had a one-track mind. I was never this insatiable before. But, of course, sex had never been this good before either.

At one point, he leaned up on one elbow, turning to look at me instead of the sky and trees. I gave him my undivided attention.

"Isabella, my lovely, I'd like you to do something for me."

"Yes, Sir." I was curious. It sounded like Edward, the Dominant, had returned, but these were strange surroundings for a scene.

"I'd like for you to make me come with your mouth," he said, matter of factly, and then he laid back down on the blanket, hands behind his head. He looked like he was about to take a nap.

I was shocked. I mean, I really shouldn't have been. He was my Master after all, and I was here to attend to his needs, but this request seemed so out of the blue, so out of place. I mean, I could have given him a blowjob anywhere... in his house, in the whiteroom, in my bedroom, in _his _bedroom.

But this was secluded, in the middle of a dense forest, and we were surrounded by a wall of tall grass. Even if anyone did wander near, we couldn't be seen.

"Isabella, I'm waiting. I won't ask again." I had been caught up in my own thoughts, and I had hesitated. I really needed to work on my focus, keeping my mind in the moment. I took a quick second to look at him, so relaxed, so comfortable, so trusting. It hit me then that he was _trusting _me, and it was kind of a mini-epiphany. I had to trust him, that I knew, but it never really occurred to me that he would have to trust _me _as well. I was tempted to linger there, delve into that thought some more, but I had already wasted enough time. I didn't want him to be disappointed in me so soon.

I brought my hand to his waist and slipped my fingers just inside his pants. He hissed softly at the contact - although he was expecting it, and waiting for it, my touch seemed to surprise him. I wanted to tease him a little, play with the line of hair that I had seen on his stomach, but I didn't think this was a good time to push my luck. So instead, I opened the button at the top of his jeans, but I took my time lowering his zipper, one slow tooth at a time.

"Isabella..." he warned. He wanted me to get down to business, but I was enjoying this small bit of freedom that he had given me. He was allowing me to make my own choices in deciding how to go about pleasing him, and I was determined to do just that - please him. I wanted to drive him as insane as he drove me.

Once I had his zipper all the way down, I let my fingers dance lightly across the fabric of his jeans, right over his erection. He sucked in a breath at my touch, then slowly let it out as I stroked him.

I decided that I wanted to remove his pants completely, but I noticed that he was wearing hiking boots, and there was no way I would be able to make quick work of those. I probably wouldn't be able to get them off at all, and then both of us would just end up frustrated and annoyed.

So instead, I grabbed the waistband of his jeans on both sides, slipping my fingers inside his boxers, and gestured for him to lift up. He grinned playfully at me, teasing me, and I raised my eyebrows at him, waiting for him to follow my instructions. He chuckled and lifted up, and I pulled until his pants and underwear were halfway down his thighs.

Jesus, he was beautiful. Everything about him. His strong, muscular thighs. His toned stomach, the little bit of it that I could see. I wanted him completely naked, and I wanted to take my time, exploring, touching, tasting, but that was not what he had requested. I could only hope that he would allow me to do that in the future.

However, there was something illicit and surprising and arousing about his half-undressed state. His cock was hard and straining towards his stomach, and I wasted no time, leaning down and running my tongue from base to tip.

He moaned softly and lifted up on his elbows, wanting to watch me. I grabbed his cock firmly in my hand and pulled it straight up. I looked up at him through my eyelashes and lowered my mouth on him, pressing a soft kiss on the head of his cock. Opening my mouth just a little more, I applied more pressure, and slowly sucked the head inside my mouth until I could swirl my tongue all around. He made a low grunting noise, deep in his chest, and I felt that familiar ache, the throbbing, between my legs. I wondered how long it would be until he let me come again. Maybe if I made him especially happy, with this particular task, he would grant me some relief.

So I decided to stop teasing him and quickly pulled him all the way in my mouth, as far back as I could.

"Jesus! _Fuck_, Isabella!" he growled in surprise and collapsed back on the blanket, running his hand through his hair. I quickly popped off of him, thinking that my sudden aggression had shocked him, but from the noise he made, it sounded like a good thing. I wanted to smile, but I didn't think it was appropriate, so I bit the inside of my lip to keep from grinning.

I waited a beat or two, just to be safe, and then lowered myself down on him again, a little slower this time. He lifted back up on his elbows, and it thrilled me, knowing that he was watching me.

"Move your hair back, off your face" he ordered, his voice rough and deep again. I pulled my hair across the back of my neck, until it was all cascading over my right shoulder. I moved slowly and with purpose, knowing that he was watching my every movement. It was like electricity, his gaze, and it set my nerve endings on fire.

I took his cock deep again, all the way to the back of my throat, and on the upstroke, I pressed my lips tightly around his width and sucked hard, all the way to the tip.

"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath. His shirt was pushed up a little, and I could see his stomach moving rapidly as his breathing increased. It thrilled me that I affected him like that, and I wanted to do whatever I could to make him happy, so I increased my pace and slid my hand lightly across his quivering stomach. His cock twitched in my mouth.

I switched hands, holding his cock with the hand that had just been on his stomach, and I slid my free hand between his legs. He immediately tried to open his legs for me, to give me better access, but his pants restricted his movement, frustrating him. I continued to work him with my mouth, slipping my fingers around his scrotum, gently squeezing in time with the motion I was making with my mouth.

"Yes, _fuck_," he moaned, lifting his hips off the blanket. "God, your mouth, Isabella. Don't fucking stop, don't stop." He was starting to mutter under his breath, and, although he was still perched up on his elbows, his eyes were heavy, almost closed.

It wasn't much longer that he was coming, pulsing in my mouth, and after a respectable amount of time, with him softly stroking my hair, he sat up and pulled me to him.

"You are fucking amazing," he said, his fingers stroking my cheek, slipping behind my neck. "My sweet, sweet girl," he whispered, then pulled me hard against his mouth, kissing me with sudden, intense passion. When he finally pulled away, a smirk on his beautiful face, I was dizzy and breathless and aching for him.

He pulled a couple of sandwiches out of his backpack, and we ate on the plaid blanket in a comfortable silence. Then he smiled at me, brought his hand to my face again, and told me it was time to head back. We packed everything up and started the long walk back.

* * *

><p>Edward suggested that we spend the afternoon in his theatre room, relaxing and watching a movie. That actually sounded perfect. I was a little tired after our hike, and that, plus the lack of sleep the night before, had me exhausted. I did find it amusing that he was asking my opinion about the plans for the day, and I had to wonder what would happen if I said "no." That thought made me chuckle to myself, and I noticed him looking at me strangely, trying to figure out what was so amusing.<p>

The theatre room was stunning. I wasn't sure what I was expecting... maybe a small room with a big screen TV and some comfortable chairs, but this was beyond anything I could have imagined. It was on the ground floor of the house, at the far end of the right wing, and it was the size of one of the small theatres at the multiplex in the city. Seriously, it could have easily fit a hundred people, but the standard movie seating had been replaced with large, plush couches. The walls were covered with dark navy drapery, and the silvery white display screen spanned across the entire far wall. There was a small kitchen on one side, with a soft drink machine and an old-fashioned popcorn machine. The other wall was comprised entirely of shelves, from floor to ceiling, and the shelves were packed with DVD's. Thousands and thousands of them.

I looked back at Edward, and he was watching me, smiling, enjoying that I was pleased with his surprise. He took my hand and led me to the couch in the center of the room. He plopped down, turned with his back against the armrest and his leg against the back of the couch, and encouraged me to sit between his legs.

"Lean back, my lovely," he said in that sweet, deep voice, as he pulled me back firmly against his chest. He was warm and comfortable, and he reached behind him to grab a large quilt, tossing it casually over our legs. He clicked a button on a remote control, and the lights in the room dimmed slowly until it was completely dark. Then, he clicked another button, and the screen came to life. I snuggled into his chest and sighed softly, enjoying this brief and rare moment of closeness.

He was very affectionate, stroking my hair, or running his fingers up and down my arms, and, until his hand drifted to the hem of my shirt, it didn't occur to me that he would try to touch me in a sexual way. He was my Master, after all, and if he wanted to touch me, he could touch me. Anytime he wanted. Anywhere he wanted. I held completely still, waiting to see what he would do.

When his fingers grazed the bare skin of my stomach, I could no longer hold back, and I moaned. I could feel his warm breath on my neck, and beneath me, his growing hardness.

"You feel so good, Isabella," he whispered, his fingers more brazen now, completely under my shirt, just below my breasts. "Your skin is like silk," he said, brushing his lips across my neck. "Warm, soft silk."

Then, I felt his tongue on my skin, and I was so turned on, so hungry for more of him, that I forgot where I was, who I was, and I wiggled my ass against his cock. He hissed loudly and grabbed me tightly.

"Do _not _do that again, Isabella," he said, his tone clipped and serious. "Hold still," he said, loosening his grip. "Don't move."

His hands were immediately back under my shirt, and he quickly moved until they covered my breasts, squeezing and stroking. I could both hear and feel his breathing increase, and I would have given just about anything to see the look on his face. He pulled my bra down under my shirt, cupping my breasts, and ran his thumbs across my hard, aching nipples.

"Oh God," I moaned, throwing my head back against his shoulder, unable to keep still as he directed. He pulled on my nipples, squeezing and twisting, until I moaned again, and I heard him softly laughing, but there was an edge to his voice that I hadn't heard before.

"You like that, my lovely? Hmm?" he growled, and then he did it again, this time, a little harder, just on this side of pain.

"Yes, Sir. Y-yes, Master, please... Oh God, please," I begged.

He kept one hand on my breast, pulling and tugging at my nipple, and the other slid down my body, under the waistband of my pants, and into my panties. There was no pretense this time, no teasing. He slipped his fingers right into my wetness and groaned in my ear.

"Fuck, Isabella," he said. "So wet... you're always so fucking wet." He drew small, slow circles around my clit, and the more I tried to move my hips so that he would have to touch me there, the more he completely avoided it. I knew he was doing it on purpose, to torture me, to make me beg and plead, but knowing that didn't make me any less desperate. He pulled both of his hands from my body for a moment, just long enough to slip behind my knees and pull my legs open wider. He positioned my legs on the outside of his, using the weight of his own to pin mine in place.

"There," he said with a satisfied chuckle, his hands rubbing up and down my arms again. "So... much... better... like this," he mumbled to himself, his mouth on my neck, kissing and licking and sucking and biting on my skin between words. "I just _love..._" he said, stressing the forbidden word and drawing it out, causing my heart to lurch out of my chest, "... spreading you open like this, nice and wide. Ready for me. For anything I want."

He brought me close to orgasm several times, right to the very edge, and then eased me back down, only to start the entire cycle over again. He could read me so well already, and it was the most excited and the most frustrated I have ever been in my life.

At one point, when I was perilously close to coming, there was a sudden, sharp knock on the door. I jumped in surprise and instinctively tried to close my legs to protect my privacy, but Edward held fast, locking his legs in place, keeping me from moving.

"Don't fucking move, Isabella," he whispered in my ear, then turned his head in the direction of the door and replied. "Come in!"

The door swung open, and Carlisle took a step inside. I was instantly mortified, knowing that he could see what Edward was doing to me, even though I was covered with a blanket, and I could feel the heat of a blush on my face and neck.

"Excuse me, Sir, I wanted to check with you about dinner," he said in a calm, professional tone. I shut my eyes tightly, refusing to look at him. I was so mortified, humiliated, that I knew if I looked at his face, that I would burst instantly in flames. "Is there anything in particular you would like?"

Edward's hands never stopped their ministrations, one under my shirt pulling on my nipple, the other under the blanket, inside my panties, circling my throbbing clit. Before he answered Carlisle, he brought his lips back to my ear, kissing me gently.

"Isabella, " he whispered. "Spread those legs a little wider, sweet girl. I need to get to that sweet pussy."

He turned back to Carlisle and answered him, but I couldn't understand a word they were saying. I was dizzy with what he was doing to me, what he was making me feel. The longer they spoke, the more aroused I became, knowing that Carlisle was watching me, that he knew exactly what Edward was doing to me. It couldn't have been the first time, I realized. He must have done this with his previous subs. Carlisle must be used to it, in some strange way.

"Thank you, Carlisle," Edward said, dismissing him, and returning his attention to me. "I thought we'd go out for dinner," he said in my ear, kissing my neck. His hands had stopped moving, and my ability to think and speak slowly returned. I was thankful that he had stopped, knowing that I would be unable to control myself, but frustrated that he had been teasing me all day and still hadn't allowed me to come.

And now he had stopped touching me.

"Let's watch the end of this movie," he chuckled. He knew exactly what he was doing to me, and it kind of pissed me off. I knew I needed to get over it, to give myself to him completely, without question, but it didn't make me any less frustrated. I crossed my arms angrily and stared at the screen.

* * *

><p>"Isabella, honey... it's time to get up."<p>

Some time later, and I wasn't sure how long because there were no windows in the theatre room, Edward woke me up on the couch. I must have fallen asleep at the end of the movie. I don't even remember watching it, between Edward's hands on me, Carlisle's interruption, and my anger at my denied orgasm.

I rubbed my eyes like a child and sat up on the couch. He stroked my back softly.

"You need to go upstairs and get ready if we're going to go out to dinner," he said. "An hour?"

I nodded absently, trying to think about what he was telling me.

"Your clothes are laid out on the bed," he said, his voice a little deeper, a little more serious, less playful. I realized he was telling me something as my Master, and I perked up a little, wondering what he had planned, if every day would be this demanding. I enjoyed the day so much, just spending time with him doing regular things, things that normal people do. Eating breakfast, taking a walk, watching a movie, going out to eat. Well, okay, there was the blowjob in the meadow and the show for Carlisle, but that was all part of the job description.

"Yes, Sir," I nodded and quickly moved upstairs to take my shower. I saw clothes laid out on the bed, but I didn't stop to really look at them. I wanted to make sure that I had enough time to get ready, to look my best. I wanted him to be proud of me, to show me off in public.

I showered quickly and washed my hair. I brushed my teeth, dried my hair, and applied just a little bit of makeup.

I walked out into the bedroom wrapped in a towel and looked at the clothes that Edward had laid out on the bed. Nothing too bizarre, which kind of surprised me for some reason. A black skirt. A tailored white blouse. A white bra. Black suede pumps.

Hmm.

No panties.

He had a thing about me not wearing panties, and apparently, we were going to play that game again tonight. As exciting as that thought was, I hoped he wouldn't push me too hard. I was already on the edge from a long day of teasing. I didn't want to disappoint him. But I had to trust him, trust that he would know what I needed and how far he could go.

I quickly dressed, checking myself in the floor length mirror on the back of the bedroom door one last time before I walked downstairs to meet him.

He was waiting for me at the bottom of the staircase, and he took my breath away. He was freshly showered as well, his hair, messy and damp. He hadn't shaved, however, and his jaw was covered a day's growth of beard. He was wearing a finely tailored black suit with a crisp, white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar. No tie. He looked so fucking sexy, right at that moment, that I almost lost myself, abandoned my position, and leaped upon him, but I didn't. I took a deep breath and met him at the bottom of the stairs. He was holding his hand out to me, and I gave him mine, thrilled with the brief contact with his warm skin.

He held me at arm's length for a moment, running his eyes up and down my body, but it was more in appreciation than appraisal. I felt cherished, not judged. He brought my hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across my knuckles, softly, sweetly.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his eyes burning into mine. "Now, come here," he grinned. He sat in the large wingback chair in the foyer, pulling something out of his pocket. I stood right in front of him as I assumed he wanted, and remembered, thankfully, to keep my feet at the proper width. He held up the item in his hand, and I realized that it was simply a pair of black lace panties. I was a little confused then, thinking that the game was pantiless teasing tonight, but I guess he had something else in mind. Again, not my place to question him or his motives.

He held them out for me to step into them, and I had to hold onto his shoulders to keep my balance. He slid the panties slowly up my legs until they were firmly in place.

"Lift your skirt," he ordered.

We had done this before, so I didn't hesitate, I lifted it all the way to my waist, knowing what he wanted to see. He slid a hand up my thigh, then across the top of the beautiful panties, running his finger back and forth, just inside the top edge. He reached inside the panties and used his fingers to spread me open. I had no idea what he was doing, but he smelled so damn good, so clean, but manly, so sexy, and his hands felt so good on me that I wanted to stay right there in the foyer for the rest of the night. His other hand slipped something inside my panties, and I could feel it secured there, like it was attached to my underwear in some way. He moved his hand to the outside of my panties and pressed his hand against firmly against me, pushing the object against my clit. Then, he released me completely. He pulled my skirt back down, smoothing it gently into place. I had no idea what he had just done, but I knew it would mean almost unbearable pleasure for me for the rest of the evening.

"Now," he growled, his voice deep and rough. "You're ready. Let's go."

It felt strange, but arousing, the scratchy lace rubbing between my legs, the unknown object pressed against me. Walking intensified the sensation, and I was somewhat thankful when we reached the car.

The drive was uneventful, and Edward was unusually quiet, pensive. The maitre'd at the restaurant seemed to know him well, and seated us quickly. Edward shook his hand, and I was sure that money had passed between them, although I didn't actually see a thing.

The restaurant was beautiful and elegant, a high-end place that I had only seen on the pages of a local society magazine. Every table was full, surrounding us with beautiful, elegant people having quiet, dignified conversations.

The waiter appeared and took our drink orders, and Edward told him that we would like a few minutes to review the menu, and he scurried off. Edward seemed to have that effect on people - they wanted to do his bidding. As did I, of course. The thought made me stifle a giggle.

As soon as the waiter disappeared, Edward took my hand in his again.

"Isabella, you are so lovely," he said softly, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. "So beautiful," he whispered, just loudly enough so that I could hear. He placed a small item on the table which he had pulled out of his pocket. "And in my limited time with you, I have noticed that you are even lovelier when you're aroused. That beautiful blush on your skin tells me what you want, how wet you must be right now, hmm?"

I looked quickly around the room, worried that someone might have overheard him, trying to phrase my answer to what was surely a rhetorical question, when the vibrating started. I had opened my mouth to answer him, and a slow buzzing had started between my legs. It was overwhelming. It took me several seconds to realize what was happening, that he had slipped a small vibrator into my panties - that's what he was doing right before we left the house.

He was watching me closely, his eyes dark and hungry, and I knew, I _knew _that this would break me. There would be no way that I could withstand this feeling, after being so close all day, and the way he was dressed, and the way he smelled, and the way he was looking at me. _Oh my God_. I moaned softly, my eyes starting a slow roll to the back of my head.

"Isabella," he scolded softly, his brow furrowing in mock irritation. "Look around you... this room full of people." I tried to turn my head, to scan the room, but the throbbing heat between my legs was demanding every bit of my attention. "They're looking at you, Isabella," he whispered. "They're going to watch you, right here, as you come... for _them_." He said it as if it were a scandal, as if he weren't the sole reason that I was moaning and squirming in a public restaurant.

I grabbed the edges of the table, the white linen cloth bunching up in my fingers, holding on as tightly as I could. My hips were starting to move on their own... tiny, hungry circles in my chair. My imagination was running wild, and they all seemed to be whispering and pointing at me, watching as Edward pushed me over the edge. But I couldn't, I just couldn't. So I begged him to stop.

"Please... oh please... please... " I mumbled, rocking in my chair, my knuckles turning white.

And then it stopped, the torturous vibrating, just as suddenly as it started. I released a very long breath that I had been holding, and before I could lift my head to even consider saying anything to Edward, our waiter appeared, ready to take our order.

"Isabella," he said calmly, looking over the menu, "what would you like tonight," and then he chuckled softly, "to _eat_."

No fucking way. No way that I would be able to speak a coherent sentence, let alone compose a coherent fucking thought. I just gaped at him, my eyes wide and wild, my chest still heaving from the effort it was taking to keep my body under control. I shook my head slightly, just enough to let him know that I wasn't going to be able to speak, that I needed him to order for me. He nodded, almost imperceptibly, and turned to the waiter and ordered for both of us. Something... I don't know what. All I wanted was him.

After the waiter left, he grabbed my hand again, stroking the skin with his thumb.

"Feeling a little better, my sweet?" he whispered in a low, throaty tone that let me know that he had only just started with me tonight, that it would be a long time before he gave me my release. I cleared my throat, a little nervously, but I was determined to show him that I still had my self-respect, that I had a choice, and that I _chose _to be there with him. That was important to me, at that moment, to hold my head up high, to show him that I was still me.

"Yes, Sir," I said as confidently as I could muster. "Much better, thank you." And then I sat up a little taller in my chair and gave _him _a little smirk.

"Oh!" he laughed in surprise. "_Excellent_, my lovely," he said, his cocky grin returning. "Excellent." He didn't seem upset about my little show of power; on the contrary - it seemed to excite him, made the game a little more thrilling for him, like he suddenly had a worthy adversary. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black velvet drawstring bag, placing it in my hand on the table, closing my fingers around it.

He leaned down to whisper conspiratorially to me.

"Take this to the ladies room with you. You'll figure out what it's for and what to do with it once you're there. Once you do, once everything is... in place," he smiled, "you may come back out and join me. Our dinner should be here by then." And then he sat back in his chair, very pleased with himself.

What the hell now? What was he doing to me? My heart was pounding, and I was in a panic about what I would find at the bottom of that black velvet bag, but I loved it too. I still just wanted _more_, every single moment that he was willing to give me.

I stood up as elegantly as I could, and I walked to the ladies room, my head held high. Right as I was reaching the door, the buzzing started up again. I whipped my head around to look at him, sitting at the table, and he was staring at me, laughing audibly. He held up the remote control for the vibrator in his hand, a tiny little black rectangle with a single red button, showing me that he had the control, literally and figuratively. It must have been obvious by the expression on my face that he had made his point, and he clicked the red button again, temporarily putting me out of my misery.

I tore my eyes away from his and moved to the stall at the far end of the restroom, hoping for a little extra room and, possibly, a little extra privacy, just in case. I locked the door and sat on the edge of the toilet, loosening the silky cord on the small, black bag. I peered in, but couldn't see a thing, so I reached in.

There were three items inside, and I still had no idea what they were, simply from touching them. So I pulled the first item out.

It was a small, portable-sized bottle of lube.

Holy shit. That was either an incredibly good thing or an incredibly bad thing. I put it aside and pulled out the second item. It looked kind of like a rubber pinky finger. I had absolutely no idea what it was or what I was supposed to do with it, but I knew that I was not supposed to return to the table until I did. So I reached back in the bag, hoping that item number three would be the final clue, and it would all fall into place.

I gasped in shock. _This _item, I knew.

It was a small - relatively speaking, of course - rubber dildo, with very realistic detailing. I flipped it over in my hands, still trying to figure out the puzzle. I knew what a dildo was for, but what did it have to do with the other two items? It was soft and squishy on the outside, but there was enough structure to it, internally, that I didn't think it could bend at all. I noticed a hole in the flat end, the end opposite of the head, and a small notch next to the hole.

I examined the pinky-finger-thing again and noticed that it had the same hole, the same notch, on the flat end.

I kept turning the items over in my hands, remembering Edward's last words to me... that once everything was "in place," that I could return to the table.

In a flash of images, one more perverted than the next, I suddenly knew what everything was for, what I was supposed to do. Well, mostly. I stood up and lifted my skirt, shimmied the lace panties down to my knees, and sat back down. I examined the crotch of the panties and received instant confirmation of my suspicions - they were attachable, the dildos. They attached to the crotch of the panties, the little hole and notch thingy, to keep them in place, I guessed, so they wouldn't slip out. I could also see the little vibrator that he had slipped inside my panties, inside a little lace pocket on the front.

I flushed bright red, my skin warm to the touch. I was alone in the bathroom, but the thought of what I was about to do, what Edward _knew _I was doing, it was mortifyingly embarrassing. I had never done anything like this before, and I didn't want to disappoint him. I wanted to see that sweet grin of his, hear that silky voice tell me I was beautiful.

I kept the smaller dildo in my hand and put the other two items back in the bag, storing it temporarily on the floor, assuming that I would need both hands to correctly attach it to the panties. I was so clumsy and uncoordinated normally, and being as nervous as I was, I knew it would take me forever to get it right.

But it was surprisingly easy. I lined up the hole and the notch with the tiny peg on the panties, and it snapped into place. I grabbed the larger dildo from the bag, and attached it quickly, just like the smaller one. I pulled the panties taut, from front to back, and gasped as I watched the two dildos stand up at attention.

All that was left now was the lube._ I can do this I can do this I can do this _I kept repeating to myself. I only had two options at this point. Either man up and put the damn things in, or call "red" and disappoint the man who was out there waiting for me, the only man who had ever cared for me in my entire life. I knew that I wanted this, that I wanted him, and I would do whatever it took to prove my devotion to him.

So I took a slow, deep breath and popped the cap on the lube. I poured a couple of drops on my index finger and looked at the two dildos, trying to decide exactly what to do. I realized that I really didn't need to put any lube on the larger one, that my body was always ready for Edward _there, _especially after the long and frustrating day he had put me through. It was the... _other _place that I would need the lube for.

I rubbed my finger against the little pinky finger dildo, smearing the two tiny drops of lube, and realized I would need more... a lot more. I poured a more generous amount into my hand this time, and coated the little thing until it was shiny in the bright bathroom light. I wiped my hands on a piece of tissue and put the bottle of lube back in the little velvet bag.

It was now or never.

I stood up, slowly, holding onto the panties as I gently tugged them up my legs. Once they were almost in place, I spread my thighs as widely as I could and held the smaller dildo between my fingers, pushing it just inside. Using one hand to hold it in place, I grabbed the larger dildo with the other hand and lined it up. It slid easily inside me. Once the two were lined up, all I had to do was pull the panties up until they were snug against my crotch, and the dildos slid into place.

"Oh, _God_..." I moaned softly in the bathroom stall, hoping that I was still alone in the room. I hadn't moved an inch yet, and the feeling of those things inside me was already almost more than I could take. I needed Edward to fuck me so badly all day, and it felt like he was here with me, his fingers inside me.

I experimented for a second and wiggled my hips a bit, the dildos rubbing inside me just enough, and I froze. I was close, right on the edge of what little control I had left, and I knew that Edward would see it written all over my face if I came without his permission. I concentrated, instead, on how the stretchy black lace scratched against my skin as I moved, and then I remembered the vibrator thing in the panties, how Edward had adjusted it before we left the house so that it was pressed directly against my throbbing clit. I slipped my hand inside my panties and spread my lower lips wide, pushing the vibrator insert directly against my skin. I was so wet, so slick and ready for Edward, but I hoped he wouldn't hit that red button again anytime soon. I had to trust that he knew what he was doing, that he knew exactly how much I could take before falling over the edge.

I smoothed my skirt back down, grabbing the now-almost-empty black velvet bag, and unlocked the stall door. There was another woman standing at the sink, an older woman, washing her hands, and she smiled at me as I walked gingerly up next to her. The dildos rubbed and pushed and pulled inside me with each step, almost like they were fucking me as I walked, and I had to bite my lip to stifle another groan. It made me think of how turned on Edward would get when I would bite my lip, that intense, almost angry face that he would make, and the red heat of my blush burned up my neck, leaving bright red spots on my cheeks.

The other woman looked at me suddenly with concern.

"Are you alright, dear?" she asked sweetly. "You look a little flushed." She wet some paper towels in the sink and handed them to me. "Press that against the back of your neck, that should cool you down a bit. Can I get you anything? A glass of water? Would you like to sit for a minute?"

Jesus, did I look that bad? If she only knew...

"No ma'am, I'm fine, thank you so much for asking," My voice was raw and uneven, and I coughed once to clear my throat. The cool tissue really did feel amazing on my neck, and it seemed to help me calm down just a little. "I'm feeling better, really. Just get a little overheated sometimes. You know how it is..."

Did she? Did she have any idea how it was, how a man like Edward could make you feel?

"Well, I saw that beautiful man out there," she replied with a grin, "the one you came here with, and I think I can understand your little predicament. If I were you, I'd get back out there and get him home." Then, she winked at me and walked out of the bathroom.

I wasn't sure what she knew, or what she _thought _she knew, or what she had seen, but I knew she was right about one thing - I needed to get back out there and get Edward to take me home.

I squared my shoulders and fluffed my hair, and I walked carefully back out into the restaurant. Edward was watching me as I walked towards him, the most intensely raw expression on his face, pure hunger, pure need. At the table just behind ours, I saw the woman from the bathroom, and she was watching us with a knowing grin. She looked at Edward appreciatively, and then nodded at me, encouraging me to follow through with what we had discussed in the ladies room. I gave her a little wave and smiled, returning quickly to my seat.

Our dinner must have just arrived. It was placed on the table and was still warm, but I had lost my appetite. All I wanted was Edward, in any way he would let me have him.

"Jesus, look at you," he whispered harshly. Was he angry with me? Had I taken too long in the ladies room? Was I embarrassing him with my blatant arousal in public? I started to panic, trying to figure out what I had done to upset him, but then he lifted his hand to my face, softly stroking my cheek with his thumb. "You are so fucking beautiful," he said, as his thumb caressed my bottom lip. "How did I get so fucking lucky?"

I wanted to take his thumb between my lips and suck it like I did with his cock that morning, in the meadow. I parted my lips just a bit, just enough to take in a little more air, and he slipped his thumb just inside, tracing along the wet edge of my bottom lip. He was breathing heavily, and I wondered, just for a second, if he could possibly be as affected by me as I was by him.

He removed his thumb from my mouth and brought it to his lips, sucking on it like one would do to soothe a papercut. I could barely breathe.

And then the buzzing started.

But this time, it was worse. Much, much worse. The dildos were vibrating too. And pulsing. They were actually _fucking _me as I sat still in the middle of one of the busiest, most exclusive restaurants in the city.

"Oh, God, please... Ma-... Sir... please... I don't... I can't," I mumbled, pleading with him to end this torture, letting him know that I had nothing left, that it was all up to him.

"I know _exactly _what you can and can't do, Isabella," he replied. "Don't doubt it for a minute."

"Please... please take me home," I whispered to him. "Oh please, take me home and … fuck me... please." I had closed my eyes, giving in briefly to the powerful sensations between my legs, and I couldn't stop the words as they poured out of my mouth.

"What about your dinner, Isabella? It just arrived. Don't you want to eat it while it's still hot? Hmm?" His finger rubbed on the red button, teasing me with relief only he could provide, one way or the other.

"I don't care about dinner," I said, shaking my head. "I don't care about eating... all I want is you... please... _please _take me home." I knew I was crossing the line, that if he wanted to reprimand me for being demanding, that he would be perfectly in his right to do so, but I did it anyway. "_Please_."

The waiter appeared at our table, and Edward told him that we needed to leave immediately, asking him to pack up our dinner to go. He disappeared to the kitchen with our plates, and quickly reappeared with two styrofoam boxes in a canvas tote bag, engraved with the restaurant's logo. Edward signed the credit card receipt, and as soon as the waiter walked away, the buzzing stopped.

"Oh thank you, Sir," I sighed in relief, glad that he had finally hit the red button, and glad that he had agreed to take me home. He stood up and grabbed my hand.

"Let's go... _now_." His voice was low and tight, and he pulled me behind him, walking quickly until we reached the car. Before I knew it, he had flipped me around so that my back was pressed against the car, and his body was pressed against me. His mouth was instantly on mine, hot and hard and hungry, his tongue attacking, his hips grinding almost painfully into mine.

He pulled back just as suddenly and growled at me to get in the car.

The drive home was completely silent, no music, no conversation, but thick with tension. We were both anxious to get home. He was so beautiful in the dark, his intense expression, his clenched jaw. I wanted to know what he was thinking, but I didn't dare ask.

He lurched to a stop in front of the house, came around to my door, and pulled me out of the car by my hand. He dragged me inside and up the stairs, never stopping, never saying a word.

When we reached the locked whiteroom door, he pushed me up against the wall again, his hands all over me, roughly squeezing my breasts, my ass. He kissed me hard, his tongue plunging deeply into my mouth, taking what he wanted from me. All I could do was try to breathe and remain standing. I loved that he wanted me so desperately.

He was digging in his pocket for his keys, and when he found them, he shoved the key into the door, popping the lock, and swung the door open. Only then did he release me. I walked into the room until I reached the bed, then turned around to watch him, to see what he wanted me to do.

His eyes were locked on mine, and he kicked the door closed behind him with his foot, then reached back and slowly turned the lock.

"Take your clothes off," he ordered. This was an Edward I had never seen before - hotter, angrier, hungrier - and I wanted him more than I had before. I quickly removed my skirt and blouse, my shoes, then my bra. "But keep those on," he gestured to my black lace panties. "Now get on the bed, on your back."

Jesus, the sound of his voice, it went straight through me, like thousands of fingers all over my skin. I was wet and aching and ready.

He walked up to the foot of the bed, grabbed my ankles, spreading my legs wide, and pulled me roughly towards him in one quick movement, until my ass was right on the edge of the bed. He pressed one hand right against my crotch, keeping the panties flush against my skin, and with the other hand, he pulled the fabric down just enough to expose my swollen clit. His hand disappeared for just a second, and the vibrating started again, then he buried his mouth between my legs, working his tongue and lips against me relentlessly, until I started to beg and moan.

"Oh God, p-please..."

He lifted up, just for a second, and finally gave me what I had been waiting for.

"Yes, Isabella... come for me, baby," he said quickly, growling and licking between my legs until I completely came apart, screaming incoherently... shaking uncontrollably as the long-awaited release coursed through my body.

At some point, Edward must have taken his clothes off, because he was standing at the foot of the bed, completely naked and beautifully hard. He ripped the black lace panties down my legs, pulling out what was inside me as well, and threw it all on the floor. He quickly flipped me over so that I was laying on my stomach, spread my thighs with his hands, and slammed his cock inside me with one long, hard thrust. His fingers were digging almost painfully into my skin as he fucked me, pulling my body towards him with each powerful stroke, grunting in time. He was using me, using my body for his pleasure, and I wanted it... I _wanted _him to take from me, to use me in whatever way made him happy, and after all he had given me already, I wanted to be everything for him.

It was only minutes later that he came hard inside me, growling and muttering, cursing under his breath. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but I knew what he felt, because I was feeling the same thing, and it was completely overwhelming.

When he was finished, he collapsed on top of me, panting and sweating, but his weight was comforting, and I reveled in the feeling of his body on mine. After several minutes, when our breathing had finally returned to normal, I felt him lifting up off of me, and I was a little disappointed, thinking that he was getting up, and that he would send me to my room, leaving me for the night. I shouldn't have felt that way - we had a long, full, exciting day together, but I already found myself wanting more.

But then I felt his warm, soft lips on my back, his hands softly stroking the backs of my arms. He kissed his way up my body, until he was at my neck, and whispered in my ear.

"You were so amazing today, Isabella," he said between brushes of his lips. "So good, so good..."

I was still face down on the bed, so he couldn't see the huge grin that broke out on my face. I had made him happy.

"Tomorrow? Mmm. Anything you want, my lovely," he murmured. "Just name it. Anything at all."

I leaned up on one elbow, turning my head towards his, meeting his eyes. I had to see his face to see if he really meant it, or if he was teasing me. Or maybe it was some sort of test?

"Anything?" I asked quietly. I couldn't believe he was really saying this to me, that he was going to give me this. He smiled at me as I continued. "Really? _Anything_?"

"Of course, sweet girl," he chuckled, "anything you want, it's yours."

I knew what I wanted. It was something I had wanted since I first laid eyes on him at that party, something I had been fantasizing about for days. But was it going too far? Would he immediately shut me down, tell me no? Or would he truly give me what I wanted?

"Okay," I said shyly, looking down at the bed. I couldn't bear to see his eyes if he told me no, if he reacted badly. "I want to be in control."

He was so quiet, and I couldn't stand the suspense, so I lifted my head to look at him. He was staring at me, but he didn't look angry, just a little curious, still with that half-cocked grin of his.

"You want..."

"Tomorrow," I smiled back at him, a little more confident now, " I want to be _you_."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**I know you're all wondering what Bella means at the end, but you'll find out next chapter. Or, of course, you can always bombard me with questions. I LOVE being bombarded. :)**

**Thank you ALL for your patience, for waiting for me to write and post this chapter. I know I'm a horrible updater, and I wish I could say I would do better, but then you KNOW I'd be lying. It gets done when it gets done. But... I'll try. :)**

**And lots of laughs, as always, writing this chapter, especially when I googled "vibrating dildo panties" when I was doing my research. Surprisingly, exactly what I imagined these to be don't really seem to exist. Maybe I need to design and sell them. I think I could make a KILLING, don't you? But Libby and I laughed quite a bit when I told her about the results of THAT google query. :)**

**OMG speaking of my beta, LibbyLou862, I love her so much. When she was proofing this chapter, she told me that she had to stop after the theatre scene to "take care of some personal business" before she could finish the chapter. I LOVE that she shares that with me and that my words might make ANYONE feel that way! (BTW, that's the second time this has happened to her. The first was downstairs in chapter 1, when he's whispering dirty things in her ear about everyone looking at her).**

**AND, my prereader, friend, and favorite internet h00r, Mabarberella, said basically the same thing, but she said that she had to stop reading TWICE! That _should _make me blush, doing that to my friends, but it doesn't. It just makes me smile.**

**A big "thank you" to all the girls at the "Kinkward Lovers" Facebook page, for all of the support, the recs, the laughs, and ESPECIALLY the dirty pictures. :)**

**And thanks to everyone else out there who reads this story - it's an amazing privilege to write something and know that someone is out there reading it. :)**

**Okay, last but not least - here's a special treat, AND an explanation about the dream sequence at the beginning of the story: Libby also writes original songs! AMAZING original songs... She wrong a song for my "Trunk Boy" story (see the story on my profile - and if you want the link to the song, I can send it to you, it's on youtube).**

**Well, we were going through her songs a couple of months ago, and she realized that she had a song called "Beautiful"! So we went through the words and came up with a game plan... Luckily, it fit perfectly into what we (and I say we because she seriously helps me with plot lines on every story, every single chapter) wanted to do with Bella's backstory. So the dream at the beginning of this chapter, when she's scared of the man coming towards her, he says a line straight out of Libby's song: ""Please be strong," he tells me. "One more try it will be beautiful. It will be beautiful.""**

**When she originally wrote the song, she didn't intend it to be about an abusive man trying to convince her to give him another chance, but once we twisted it into that, it seemed to work perfectly (especially with how sweet the music is), and chapter 5 was born. :)**

**Here's the youtube link to the song: ****http:/youtu(dot)be/ypVFyuk6v-k**** (replace the word dot with the actual dot)**

**AND PLEASE excuse the actual video part of the video - I am NOT a creative videographer, so my video skills are sorely lacking. Seriously - I know it, so you don't have to tell me how much I suck. :) Just listen to the song and the words, please. Libby is truly, truly talented, and SHE inspires ME! :)**

**Here are the complete lyrics to the song... Enjoy! (And if you feel so inclined, you can either send me a PM or send LibbyLou862 a PM and let us both know what you think about her song!)**

* * *

><p>Beautiful<br>Words/Music © September 25, 2010  
>By LibbyLou862<p>

Runnin down a dream's not all it's cracked up to be  
>Time and time again it plays tricks on the sanity<br>Am I good enough? Is this worth the fight?  
>My patience is wearing thin. Should I throw the towel in?<p>

"Please be strong," he tells me. "One more try it will be beautiful.  
>It will be beautiful."<p>

Don't know what to do - frustration drags me down  
>Like my hands are tied with no answers to be found<br>Catch 22 and others in control.  
>Can I steal back the key? I just need to depend on me.<p>

"Please be strong," he tells me. "One more try it will be beautiful.  
>It will be beautiful."<p>

This fire is burning but still contained.  
>Raging below the surface, still unnamed.<br>When will I be allowed to set it free?  
>This hidden desire deep inside of me.<p>

Should I let it go - maybe it's not meant to be  
>Am I fooling myself? Is this dream fantasy?<br>Am I good enough? Is this worth the fight?  
>My patience is wearing thin. Should I throw the towel in?<p>

"Please be strong," he tells me. "One more try it will be beautiful.  
>It will be beautiful."<p>

"Please be strong," he tells me. "One more try it will be beautiful.  
>It will be..."<p>

"Beautiful."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: All things "Twilight" belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. :)**

**Content Warning: brief exhibitionism, light bondage. And of course, the usual. :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Beautiful chapter 6<strong>

On Sunday morning, I slept in a bit, a little later than usual, curious to see if Isabella would dare enter my private bedroom to rouse me to begin her day as my "Mistress."

As I laid there waiting, I thought back on the previous night, when she had told me of her desire, her choice for the reward that I had offered her for her magnificence the previous day. When she said that she wanted to be in control, I thought that it sounded like an intriguing idea, rife with promise, and I assumed that I knew exactly what she wanted. I imagined her hot little hands and her warm, wet tongue exploring my body, excruciatingly and deliciously slowly, and I found myself more than half-hard at the thought, even though I had just experienced one of the most intense orgasms of my life.

But then, she added that she wanted to _be _me_ - her exact words - _and that set off some very loud and very insistent warning bells in my head. In the short time I had known Isabella, I had never felt that she had a single dominant bone in her body, so this request of hers completely took me by surprise. Was it possible that she would want to continue in this direction once she had a taste of the other side? Would she want to leave me as my submissive and, instead, train as a Dominant? If that was what she truly wanted, of course, I would help her along her way, give her the highest of recommendations, and send her to a Domme who I knew and trusted implicitly. I wouldn't let her go to just anyone.

Fuck that, I didn't want to let her go at _all_. She was _mine_, goddamnit, and God help the sorry fucker who tried to lay the first finger on her. I'd fucking kill him with my bare hands.

But then I took a deep breath, and I decided _I _was the fucking Dominant here, and _I _would set the rules for exactly how the next day would proceed. What I would and wouldn't allow her to do. I also explained to her, in a very clear and stern voice, that I was _still _her Master, and if I determined that she had gone too far, or if I wanted her to stop, that we would stop. And she would not question me, in _any _way, that she would immediately return to her position.

She readily agreed to all of my terms, but still didn't give me any indication of what she wanted, what she intended to do, other than asking my permission for a couple of things. She was smiling a secret little smile, and she told me that she wanted it to be a surprise, as a gift to me, to show her appreciation for all that I had done for her.

All that I had done for _her_? That made me laugh, the ridiculousness of it, but I held it in, not wanting her to think I was laughing at her. If she only knew, Jesus, if she only _knew _the effect she had on my life and how much I _already _needed her. How it seemed that I had been waiting my entire life for her, and that I would surely cease to exist if she ever left me.

She had the upper hand, and she didn't even know it. And, of course, I could never tell her. That was my role, as her Dom, to keep the fantasy alive between us, to make her _believe_.

Fuck. I closed my eyes and ran my hand through my unruly hair. What the hell was I doing? What had I agreed to?

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door, and I could tell by the timidity of it that it was Isabella. This would be interesting, the first play of this very new game - I had never before let a submissive dominate me... _ever_. I took a deep breath to center myself and called for her to come in.

She cracked the door and stuck her head in, just a bit, testing the waters. She was so fucking cute, and I wanted to lure her to my bed and fuck her all day long just to hear her scream over and over and over. God, I loved the way she sounded when she screamed. But instead, I simply waited, for her.

I was completely naked, which was my normal state of dress when I slept, and the sheets were twisted around my legs. I hadn't shaved, and I knew that my hair was in its usual state of disarray, so when she just stood in the doorway, peeking through that small crack in the door, staring at me, I knew that she wanted me, and that she was caving. It wouldn't take much convincing on my part to get her to join me in bed, and then she would be _mine_, fuck her plans.

But no. I had promised, and I _did _want to reward her, so I cocked an eyebrow, waiting for her to tell me what she wanted, why she had knocked on my door. If she wanted to start this game, _she _needed to start it. I wasn't going to do it for her.

"Excuse me, Master," she said meekly. "I'm sorry to interrupt you in your bedroom, but I wanted to let you know that breakfast is ready."

_Master_? She was still calling me Master and calling me to breakfast?

"Thank you, Isabella," I said with a smirk, pulling the sheet away from my body and stretching out on the bed while she watched. Her mouth dropped slightly, and I heard her suck in a very soft breath. Delicious. "I'll be down in a moment... I'll meet you at the table."

She nodded once and turned to leave.

"Isabella, wait a minute," I said, and she quickly turned around in the doorway. "Isn't there something else you want to say to me?" I teased, waiting for her first command.

She looked confused, and a little panicked, like it was an answer that she was supposed to know but didn't. She shook her head uncertainly and started chewing nervously on that damn lip again.

"_Isabella.._." I said sternly with a directed glare at her mouth.

She immediately ceased biting her lip, her cheeks turning bright pink as she cast her eyes to the floor.

"Now, look at me."

She tilted up her head until her eyes met mine, and I was momentarily lost again, lost in that beautiful deep brown, but I quickly recovered, remembering my role for the day. I decided to let it go for now, to wait and see how she decided to play it, so I looked away, dismissing her.

She turned again to leave and started to close the door, so I rolled over in the bed, preparing to get up and get ready for breakfast. I heard a sudden, loud crack in the air, and then a warm stinging bloomed on my ass. I whipped my head around to look at Isabella, who was still standing in the doorway, but her hands were on her hips, and she was holding the long end of a towel.

Did she? Did she fucking _smack _me in the ass with the end of that towel? Oh, this was good. She was going to fucking _pay_, and I was going to enjoy the hell out it.

"Now, move your ass, _Edward_," she said firmly, but with a smile turning up the corners of her lips. "I expect you at the breakfast table in five. Got it?" Then, she lifted her eyebrow at me, like I did to her so often, waiting for my answer to her question, and my _God_, she was beautiful, fucking _glorious _in her dominance. I was stunned, more attracted to her at that moment than I had ever been, but there was something else, something yet undefined, that truly had me flustered. But she was waiting, my beautiful Isabella, so I promised myself that I would think more about it later, and for now, I would give her what she was waiting for.

"Yes ma'am," I answered slyly, and I climbed out of bed.

* * *

><p>Breakfast was quiet and uneventful. Carlisle served, as he usually did, and then he silently disappeared while we ate.<p>

I think we were both anticipating what was going to happen that day... the main difference being, that, for once, _she _knew, and I didn't. I didn't really like that at all, being the control freak that I was, but I was looking forward to seeing just how far she would go. I didn't doubt for a minute that, at some point, she would cross the line, and that I would have to stop her, but I wanted to see what would happen.

As soon as I finished eating, I pushed my chair back and turned towards her, amused and curious, waiting to see what came next. She immediately got up from the table and slid to her knees on the floor right in front of me. I sat back in my chair, scooting forward a little, and waited patiently for what I assumed she was about to do.

And she did.

She slowly slid her hands up and down my thighs, stroking me softly through my jeans, her fingers finding their way to my waistband, teasing the sensitive skin, the hair on my stomach, before she pushed the button through the hole. She slowly lowered the zipper, and I heard her moan softly when she saw my naked, hard skin - I wasn't wearing underwear that morning, which was my little surprise for her.

She wasted no time, leaning down and taking my entire cock into her warm, wet mouth, and I was so surprised by the sudden feeling that I groaned loudly, letting her know just how good she felt to me. I couldn't help but watch, my hard dick, slick and shiny from her mouth, disappearing between her tight lips, and I was feeling my orgasm quickly starting to build. She was sucking me with a purpose, strong and hard and deep, and I had to lift my hips off the chair repeatedly just to keep up with her.

Carlisle walked in just then, and although he had caught me performing various sexual acts in the past, the timing of most having been completely orchestrated by me, he had never before caught me with my dick in someone else's mouth. Actually, outside of my whiteroom, _no one_ had _ever _caught me in that particular situation. It was the only time where I felt the slightest bit vulnerable, and because of that, I simply wouldn't allow it - I had to maintain complete control at all times.

I always enjoyed the power that came from exhibitionism, knowing that someone else was watching, but that they were watching because I _wanted _them to watch. What I liked was the show of the thing, but _this_... well, I wasn't expecting it, and I just didn't want Carlisle to see me out of control, so I reacted immediately.

"_Isabella_!" I whispered in a weak attempt to scold her, my wavering voice giving me away. I turned my head quickly to look at Carlisle, to attempt some sort of damage control, but he was looking at _her_, not at me, which I just couldn't seem to comprehend. "Carlisle - " I started, nervously clearing my throat, trying to draw his attention.

Oh, but Isabella, my sweet Mistress for the day, she would have none of that. She pressed her forearms down on my thighs, holding me in place on the chair, and popped off of my quite naked and quite hard dick just long enough to ask a quick question.

"Carlisle," she interrupted, speaking directly to him. "Mr. Cullen would like to discuss today's lunch and dinner menus with you, if that's alright with you."

"Very good, Miss Swan," he said to me with a tiny smile on his face. Then, he turned to me, and started a very calm, very normal discussion about meal selection. "Sir?" he asked. "Anything in particular you would like today?"

I looked from one to the other, back and forth a few times, trying to determine if the two of them had conspired against me, but I knew that Carlisle was completely loyal and that Isabella was too new to act so boldly.

So, I opened my mouth to speak, and right at that exact moment, Isabella sucked my entire cock tightly to the back of her throat, and I made the single most unmanly noise I had ever made in my life and came up off the chair. She looked up at me, never stopping her movements, and cocked that eyebrow again, waiting for me to answer.

But I couldn't fucking speak. What she was doing to me was so damned good, and Carlisle was watching, not staring at a spot on the wall like he usually did, and _knowing that _he was watching, and that she _wanted _him to watch, and that she wanted me to fucking carry on a _conversation _with him, well... _shit_.

I took several deep breaths, and tried to continue.

"Carlisle," I started, and then she twisted her tongue around my swollen head before the word left my mouth. "Oh, _fuck_!" She was using soft suction to pull the head wetly in and out of her mouth, and I was dizzy with need. I wanted to bury my hands in her hair and make her fucking suck me hard until I came. God, I needed that.

She grabbed the waistband of my jeans in her hands, her mouth never stopping, and she yanked my pants all the way down to my ankles. There was nothing now that Carlisle couldn't see, and as much as that humiliated me, because it was usually the sub who he was seeing naked, it added a new layer of perverse excitement to the act.

She popped off again.

"Tell him what you want, Edward," she ordered, a subtle threat implicit in her voice, then sucked me back into her mouth again.

I ran my hand through my hair, nervously, wanting to enjoy this, but the not knowing was fucking _killing _me.

"Carlisle, you _know _what I - " and again, I barely had a few words out of my mouth when I felt her warm little hands sliding between my legs, one gently squeezing my balls, the other exploring a little further down. "Oh my God... _fuck_!" I screamed, throwing my head back against the chair, my eyes rolling back in my head. I was bowed up off the chair, my hands tightly gripped on the armrests, but she would not let up.

Carlisle just stood there, patiently waiting, as he always did. Always the professional. Always with the utmost of discretion.

"Edward," she whispered, just loud enough for Carlisle to hear. "Give him the information he's waiting for, or I'll stop. I swear to you, I will." And then she looked up me, giving me that little innocent smile, batting her long eyelashes at me. She wouldn't... would she?

"Isabella, baby... _Jesus_... you're fucking killing me here," I moaned. But she would not relent. I suppose after the long, torturously teasing day I had given her the day before - and fucking payback was hell - she was giving me a taste of my own medicine, but I hope she remembered that at the end of the day, she would be mine again, and I was going to push her beyond anything that she could possibly imagine. Thoughts and plans were already spinning through my dirty little mind.

She was sucking hard again, taking me all in, and I was perilously close to coming, something that I really didn't want to do in front of Carlisle, so I forced the words out of my mouth.

"_Chicken_!" I screamed, and they both looked at me with a hint of amusement at my sudden outburst. "_And a fucking salad, okay?_" I was so fucking close, I could feel my balls starting to tighten.

"Isabella," I begged. "_Please_, baby... upstairs... let's finish this upstairs, _please_." I couldn't believe that I was fucking begging a _sub_. _Jesus_, if Jasper could only see me now, I would never live this shit down.

"Sauces?" she said innocently to Carlisle before filling her mouth back up with my hard dick.

"Excellent point, Miss Swan," he said with a subtle grin. "Any sauces or particular dressings on your salad, Sir?"

"Fuck the both of you!" I muttered, my hips thrusting uncontrollably, pumping myself into her mouth. "_Whatever_! Just pick whatever the _fuck _you want and get the _fuck _out of here Carlisle! _Now_!" I thought, at that point, that I saw Carlisle cast a quick glance at Isabella, who nodded slightly, and then Carlisle left the room.

"Thank fucking God," I groaned, and just as I was settling back for her to finish what she started, she removed me from her mouth and stood up. I couldn't believe she was doing this to me, and I let her know it. "You have _got _to be fucking kidding me, right?"

But she just smiled, grabbing my hand, and pulled me behind her and up the stairs. "You know you're going to pay for this, Isabella, right? You _do _know that." But she never said a word, just smiled, so satisfied with herself and how her special day had begun.

When we reached the whiteroom door, she realized that it was locked, and she waited for me to retrieve my keys to open the door, which I gladly did, and then I held the door open for her. I walked just inside and waited for further instruction.

"Stand at the foot of the bed, please," she said in an even tone. She was, in essence, issuing a command, but she was keeping a respectful tone, which, other than the towel popping incident, was exactly what we had discussed. I moved to the end of the bed and waited.

She walked right up to me, mere inches from my face, and looked me up and down, very slowly, wantonly. Fuck, that was hot. I had a creeping feeling that I was about to be in serious trouble.

She reached up with one hand and threaded it behind my neck, into my hair, then slowly pulled my head down to hers, pressing her lips softly to mine. Her tongue had just barely grazed my lips when she pulled away and sat in the chair in the corner of the room, the chair I always sat in when I wanted to watch.

"Take off your clothes for me, Edward," she ordered. "Very, very slowly."

I was still hard as a fucking rock from the half blow job in the dining room, so it didn't take much to get me to full mast. I met her eyes, full of fire and want, and I unbuttoned my shirt, letting it fall to the floor from my shoulders.

My jeans were still unbuttoned from earlier, having only managed to raise the zipper in my haste to follow her up the stairs, so all I had to do was pull down on that metal tab, and they, too, fell to the floor in a pile at my feet. I stepped out of the pants and kicked my clothes to the side. I stood at the foot of the bed, feet the proper width apart - because I had been extremely well-trained - and I waited for her next command.

She sat, for several moments, just observing me, admiring my naked body, my cock which was hard for her, and only her. I was aching for her hands on me, her mouth, her tongue... anything. I just needed her to touch me.

Finally, she stood and walked to the side of the bed, softly patting the thick duvet.

"Up here, Edward," she gestured. "On your back."

As I positioned myself on the bed, I saw her walk to the dresser and open several drawers, removing a few items here and there. My curiosity was _raging, _but I remained in place, didn't ask a question. She returned to the side of the bed with her hands behind her back, hiding whatever toys she had chosen.

"We talked about this last night, Master," she said, and I wondered again why she kept switching roles on me like that. Maybe she needed constant validation that what she was doing was okay, that I wasn't angry with her. "But I just wanted to check with you one more time? Make sure it was still okay if I, um, bind you to the bed?" She was hesitant, and sweet, and God knows I wasn't looking forward to the loss of control, but I was willing to allow it, considering the end result. And I _was _looking forward to receiving some intense sexual pleasure from my lovely girl.

"Yes, Isabella," I said with a patient sigh. "It's alright. But remember the rules we discussed." I looked at her sternly. "I say stop, and you stop. _Immediately_."

"Yes, Sir, I remember," she said solemnly, nodding. Then, she took a deep, shaky breath and laid the four black leather cuffs that she had been hiding behind her back on the edge of the bed. She attached one to each wrist and ankle, then walked around the bed, stretching out my limbs, and before she attached each cuff to the restraining strap, she brought her lips to my skin, as I had done with her on our first night here. I had never before been on the receiving end of that particular action, and I found myself suddenly overwhelmed at her sweet, meaningful gesture.

She tightened each strap, in turn, and I quickly discovered that I couldn't move. I mean, I _really _couldn't move. At _all_. Jesus, I was fucking trusting her.

Once I was completely bound and at her mercy, she stepped back and started stripping off her clothing, and I turned my head to watch her. I didn't think I would ever tire at looking at her naked body. She was so beautiful, so sexy, so perfect, and I wanted to do some really nasty things to her.

My cock was hard and aching and wet, straining towards my stomach, and when she climbed up onto the bed and straddled my hips, I thought I might come right there on the spot, just thinking about her naked pussy stretched wide and open across my legs.

"I've wanted to do this since I first met you," she said, her voice sweet and sultry. "I really can't believe that you're letting me."

She started by gently stroking the skin of my arms, beginning at my wrists and slowly working her way down until she reached my shoulders. She seemed almost fascinated by my body, exploring, taking her time - I _had _given her all day, after all. Then, she leaned over me, on all fours, her hands on the mattress on either side of my head, and her long, dark hair fell in a soft wave across my chest. She pulled it all to one side over her shoulder in an elegant gesture, and started to kiss my neck. Soft lips, open, wet kisses, and just the tiniest tease of her soft tongue. She was tasting me, slowly, savoring the opportunity that I had given her.

She licked the entirety of my ear, slipping the tip just inside, pulling the lobe into her mouth, then biting and nipping until I cried out. She seemed to like that, hearing me make noise for her. She worked her way across my jaw, rubbing her cheek across the rough growth of hair until her skin was pink from the friction, then kissed under my chin, and down to my throat.

I swallowed hard, which she _had _to have felt with her mouth, and I closed my eyes to concentrate on the sensations she was producing in my body. This was going to be much more difficult than I thought.

"Open your eyes, Edward," she whispered throatily. "I want you to watch me."

Fuck me, she knew just what button to push. My eyes were so heavy from need, and it took all I had to lift them open, but her beauty was perfectly sublime in that exact moment, and I wanted to burn that image of her into my memory, her eyes black with desire. Once she saw that I was watching her, she ran her fingernails down my chest, hard enough to leave red marks, but not enough to really hurt, and that intensity surprised me. I didn't think she was really trying to inflict pain, I think she just wanted to show me how deeply her feelings went, and she wanted proof, physical proof, that she was here and had been allowed to touch me like this.

"God, yes, baby," I moaned. "Ugh, that feels _so _fucking good. Do it again, _please_."

And she did. But this time, she grazed my nipples, which were hard and aching and hungry for her touch, and when her nails scratched across them, I cried out, my body arching off the bed from the instant and exquisite pain.

"_Fuck_!" My immediate thought was to stop her right then and there, but then the pain subsided, and a delicious warmth spread throughout my body, and all I could think of was that I wanted _more_. As she and I had discussed, I didn't enjoy pain, either giving or receiving, but this was different. This was just enough to make it interesting, and I liked the mix, a lot. It was almost too much, already, and we had really just started. I knew I would not last the day.

She did it again, scratching my nipples with her fingernails, but then she immediately wrapped her soft lips around each one, in turn, her wet tongue circling, her teeth gently nipping. It was just as intense as the first time, but soothing too, and I felt her desire to please me, above all things.

Her fingers trailed down my body, back and forth across my stomach, which was quivering and shaking with each panting breath I drew. She was tracing the line of hair down the middle of my chest, and the closer she got to my cock, the harder I got. But she refused to touch me, _there_.

She leaned down and licked my skin, long and slow, but my stomach only, not my cock, and I huffed loudly in frustration. She lifted up her head and looked at me, grinning.

"Something wrong, Edward?" she said with sarcastic innocence, a confident chuckle that only came from the power of wielding complete control over another human being. I was starting to think that she was enjoying this a little too much.

"_Yes_, Goddammit, something's wrong," I growled. "Fucking _touch _me!"

She threw her head back and laughed richly, enjoying my temporary misery, and I said temporary, because I was fucking _minutes _away from ordering her to release me, and then forcing her to suck me off, on her knees, repeatedly.

She leaned away from me, arching back towards my legs, and she slid her hands behind her, down to my ankles, then back up to the inside of my knees, before finally scratching her fingernails on the tender skin just inside my thighs. I was watching her, spread out before me in this particular open position, and I could see how wet and swollen she was. She was always wet for me, my lovely Isabella, and I knew that she was aching as well, and wouldn't be able to hold off much longer herself.

She sat back up and started to stroke herself while I watched her. Pulling and pinching her nipples, slipping her fingers between her legs, until they were slick and shiny with her arousal. She was enjoying my torment, knowing that I wanted to touch her, that I _needed _to touch her. I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to taste her. I wanted her under me, moaning and screaming.

She lifted her fingers to my mouth and wet my lips with her slickness, and I lifted my head, trying desperately to suck her hand into my mouth, but she pulled away, shaking her head at me in denial.

"Ah, ah, ah, Edward," she admonished. "Not yet, baby. Lick your lips - taste what you do to me."

I could already smell her, the scent from her fingers and from what she had left on my mouth, and it was driving me insane. I slid my tongue across my lips, and I couldn't help myself, moaning loudly as her taste exploded as it hit the back of my tongue.

"Is that good, Edward? Hmm? Tell me baby, let me hear you," she said, using the very words I said to her the day before.

"Baby... _please_," I groaned. "Give me your fingers, please. I need more. You taste so fucking good..."

She smiled at me, burying her hand between her legs again, and brought her newly slick fingers to my mouth, just outside of my reach, teasing me yet again. I lifted my head, lips parted, and tried to suck her fingers into my mouth, but, each time I got close, she would pull away at the last minute.

Now, I was starting to get pissed.

"Goddamnit, Isabella, put your fucking fingers in my mouth _right fucking now, _or so help me God..." I threatened, but I was still tightly bound to the bed, and the more I seemed to fight, the more she seemed to like it. It wasn't the command she had been waiting for, the final command ending her little game, but she must have felt enough of my frustration to give in to this particular request, and she slipped her fingertips just inside my mouth.

Fucking hell, she tasted so good. I wrapped my tongue around each finger, slowly sucking and licking and watching her as she watched me, remembering what it was like to have my face buried between her sweet thighs. She seemed to be entranced, just as turned on as I was, and I felt like I had achieved a small victory in taking back control, even if just for that moment.

She plucked her fingers from my mouth and lifted up on her knees, scooting forward on the bed until she was hovering right above my cock. She was finally going to let me fuck her. Thank _Christ_.

"Yes," I moaned. "God, yes, do it, baby... do it... let me fuck you, Isabella." I lifted my hips, trying desperately to get my cock inside her, but she held herself up, just out of my reach, grabbing my cock in her hand and rubbing it back and forth between her legs, fucking tormenting me again.

"_This_, Edward?" she whispered, lining up her wet warmth with my throbbing cock. "You want this pussy?" she teased.

"Fuck, yes, baby... please... give it to me... God, I want to fuck you so damn bad. Let me fuck you, come on..." I was muttering under my breath, barely intelligible words, trying to convince myself almost as much as her.

"No, _pretty boy_, not today" she replied with that cocky smile that I was really starting to both love and hate. "Today, _I'm_ gonna fuck _you_." And before I could even react to her disrespectful words, she slammed her body down on mine in one smooth motion until our hips were touching, flesh against flesh. I was _finally _inside her, and the only thought in my head right then was how fucking warm and wet she was.

She pressed her hands flat against my chest, leaning her weight against me, and she started to pump her hips, slow and sexy. She knew I was watching, and she was putting on a show that she knew I would remember. She kept her slow pace, as maddening as it was, and with each upstroke, she would tighten her muscles around me, squeezing and pulling on my cock, then relaxing as she slid back down.

My fingers were twitching, tingling, and I knew that I needed to touch her, to grab her hips and pull her against me, to hold her firmly in place so that I could thrust up into her, hard.

"Untie me, baby," I whispered. "Just my hands... You can keep fucking me, but I have got to touch you." I thought it was a perfectly reasonable request, letting her continue her little game, with one small concession on her part.

She grinned at me and shook her head slowly, telling me no. _Fucking telling me no_. I couldn't believe that she was making this play, that she had the balls to take it this far.

"Isabella," I said evenly, trying desperately to keep my temper under control. "Untie my hands right now, and I promise that I will fucking let you come while you fuck me. If you don't..." I left it there, an implied threat. She had no idea what a hardship true orgasm denial could be, and I really didn't want to go there unless I had to.

But she let her brief reign of power go to her head, and although I knew that wasn't her original intent with this request, she was losing herself in the moment, completely forgetting her place. She closed her eyes and bit on her lip, which she fucking _knew _drove me insane, and slowed down her pace just a bit more, just enough to say, _fuck you, I control your orgasms today_, and _you're not coming until I say you can_.

That was when I completely lost my shit.

"_Isabella_... that's _it_. That's fucking _it_. It's over. Untie me _right now_," I ordered loudly, and something in the tone of my voice must have finally registered with her, because her eyes opened wide, and she suddenly seemed panicked and remorseful. "_Right fucking now, do you hear me, little girl?_"

She stumbled as she climbed hurriedly off the side of the bed, muttering weak apologies as her shaking fingers loosened each cuff.

"Master, I'm -" she started, but I didn't want to hear it. She had her chance, and she blew it. I held my newly freed hand up, silencing her immediately.

"I don't want to hear it, Isabella. Not. Another. Fucking. Word," I growled in a low, dangerous voice. "_Do you understand me?_Nod your head if you do."

She nodded slowly, her big brown eyes wet and full of shame. I know she was upset with herself, mostly because she had let me down, but I had clearly discussed the rules with her before we started, and I gave her several chances to correct her behavior before it was too late.

She stood silently at the side of the bed, her eyes on the floor, waiting for the inevitable. She was so fucking lucky that I didn't punish with pain because she would have been one sore little girl in the morning. But I had other ways, which she was about to learn.

I climbed off the bed, wincing at the sudden pain in my limbs from being held in one position too long, and I stretched quickly as I walked to the dresser. I pulled a few items from the drawers and returned to the bed where she was waiting.

I grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her to the foot of the bed, practically dragging her behind me. It was more humiliating than painful, but I wanted her to feel a little bit of both. She had to know just how deeply she had displeased me.

"On your knees," I ordered gruffly. "Back against the bedpost."

She immediately complied, big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. I didn't want to make her cry, and seeing her that upset with herself was going to kill me, but I had to follow through or she would never respect me or my position.

I secured her arms behind her back with the elbow cuffs I had grabbed from the dresser, then attached the cuffs to the restraining strap hidden just inside the bedpost, and once she was secure, her back straight, I grabbed her chin in my hand and tilted her head up.

"Look at me, Isabella," I said firmly. I knew how important it was to leave anger out of these situations, and I needed to explain to her what she had done wrong. I was absolutely sure that she knew, but it was crucial that she heard the words from me.

She lifted those beautiful brown eyes to mine, and I faltered, but only briefly.

"I'm not angry, Isabella. It's important that you know that." She sniffed and nodded her head gently. "I _am _disappointed that you disobeyed me and treated me so disrespectfully. And then teased me mercilessly without letting me come. And you had your fun, didn't you? Well, princess," I said with a wicked grin. "Now, it's _my _fucking turn."

She swallowed hard, and waited.

"So, open up that pretty little mouth of yours, and do _exactly _what I tell you."

* * *

><p>I couldn't sleep that night.<p>

I have never really gotten pleasure out of punishing a submissive, but with Isabella, it was especially uncomfortable. It wasn't like I had beaten her or flogged her or anything - I just let her know how disappointed I was. I made her make me come several times, which seemed on the surface to be a selfish action, but it was all a part of the lesson. Of course, I enjoyed the hell out it, but the point was that she _belonged _to me, and that my wishes, my pleasure should have been all that mattered to her. She got carried away and forgot that, so I had to remind her.

Then, I sent her to her room for the rest of the day, unfulfilled, again, reminding her that her pleasure belonged to me as well. That the honor of my company was also a privilege that she would have to earn back.

It was single most difficult thing I ever had to do as a Dom, seeing that disappointment in her eyes. Disappointment in _herself_, that she had let me down.

Later than evening, I walked by her door a few times, to listen, to check on her, to make sure that she was okay. I heard her crying softly for a while, and then she must have finally fallen asleep, exhausted from the long, emotional day.

I walked down to the kitchen, and I got a drink... three fingers of bourbon, quickly downed while standing at the kitchen sink. And then I roamed the house some more, waiting for sleep to claim me. I decided to go back to my room and lay in bed, maybe read a bit. I had to try to relax, get my mind off of Isabella, but as I passed her room, I heard her soft, sleepy voice.

She was dreaming again, I assumed, talking in her sleep. I stopped to listen, telling myself it was to make sure that she was okay, but I knew that I was invading her privacy. I couldn't hear exactly what she was saying, just a word here and there.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"I'm … "

"... baby... "

"... just trying to... "

Then she seemed to quiet down a bit, like whatever was bothering her had moved to another part of her subconscious. I started to walk away, to go to my room and try to get some sleep, but then she spoke again, so clearly that there was no misunderstanding what she was saying.

"_Edward_... " she moaned.

I held my breath and pressed my ear to the door.

" … so sorry, _Edward_... "

She was dreaming about me. About _me_. I leaned against the door, my eyes closed, and I strained to hear more, to hear _what _she was dreaming about me, but all I could hear in the quiet hallway was the pounding of my heart, the blood rushing rhythmically against my eardrums.

Was she only dreaming about me because she was upset? She had dreamed about that son-of-a-bitch who hurt her, and now she was dreaming about me. Oh my God, if she was having a nightmare about me... fuck, did I hurt her? I leaned over, resting my hands on my knees as I tried to pull in a solid breath. I couldn't live with that, I couldn't. I had to make it right, I had to let her know how I felt about her, what today had meant to me, that she was willing to ask me for what she wanted, that she was willing to push me as I pushed her. I thought back to how we started that morning, her waking me up in my bed, showing me her playful side, the crack of the towel...

She had called me "Edward" then, starting the game.

And, she called me "Edward" just now, in her dream. "_So sorry, Edward_," she had said. Not "Master."

It bothered me that morning, when she used my name, but I didn't know why at the time. No sub had _ever _called me by my first name before. It was simply not allowed. I never wanted to hear it before, and I just assumed that it was the same issue.

But this was different. _Everything _with Isabella was different, and I realized, quite suddenly, that I _liked _it. I liked the way it sounded, my name. I wanted to hear her say it over and over, watch her lips move as the word rolled out of her mouth. I wanted her to moan it. I wanted her to scream it. And as much as I loved controlling her, having her as my sub, I thought, at that moment, that there was one thing that I now wanted more...

I no longer wanted to just be her Master. I wanted to be her Edward too, and I wondered, for the first time in my life, if it was possible to be both.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**This chapter is a little shorter than the last five, but that's because, according to the outline, I was only halfway done, and it would have taken me another month to finish what I had on the outline. I mean, this is over 7,700 words, which used to be a normal chapter for me, so I hope that's okay! So NEXT chapter is really part two of chapter 6, if that makes sense. :) (And because of that, you'll get TWO EPOV chapters in a row.)**

**I like to give credit where credit is due, and I have to thank MaBarberElla for DEMANDING that Bella's scene included making Edward have a conversation with Carlisle while she was going down on him. That was allllllll her. She's a big Daddy C perv and wanted to watch him watch. So I made that happen, because I can. (Check out her story, "The Cassolette," for more Daddy C perviness!)**

**Some of you might wonder why Edward reacted the way he did, when Bella lost her place. Maybe you think he was too angry, too harsh. But he's REALLY confused, and he's having trouble reconciling it all. He'll figure it out, though. Trust me. :)**

**I have to say thanks, as always, to **_**everyone **_**who reads this story. It just amazes me every single time I hear from one of you... such a positive, inquisitive, supportive group of friends! Thank you all so much! I love writing for you. I really do.**

**And special shout out to my girls on the "Kinkward Lovers" facebook page, who continue to pimp out this story like they're making money from it (that was a joke, by the way, so please don't report me to Stephenie Meyer). I love y'all!**

**Two last items of business:**

**1) I've signed up to write a story for the "Fandom for No Kid Hungry" cause. It's gonna be something new, actually scratching an old Jane Austen itch that I have, so you can just IMAGINE how that will turn out. :) If you want to read, please go to **fandomcause(dot)info/** and find out how to make a donation for a wonderful cause. (A donation gets you access to the compilation of stories.)**

**2) "Beautiful" has been nominated for "Best Lemon" in The WordSmith Awards! I have no idea WHICH lemon specifically, because this story is basically **_**all **_**porn, but hey, they could have nominated me for "Best Use of Belly Button Lint" and I would have been just as thrilled. Damn, now I have to include belly button lint in a future chapter, and that's just gross. Anyway, thank you to whoever nominated the story, and PLEASE vote, if you are so inclined. Here's the website (****wordsmithawards(dot)blogspot(dot)com)****, and voting starts Thursday, May 17!**

**Last order of business, but never the least. Thanks to my beta, best friend, and major plot contributor, LibbyLou862. Seriously, I send her something to read and she instantly asks me all these questions that I hadn't considered (usually something along the lines of "if she's kneeling against the bedpost, how are her arms tied behind her?" or "if you walk in the room, is the bed to the right or the left?" Because she has to picture it, and so do I, so I'm always able to give her an immediate answer), and gives me lots of "what if's." She makes my stories so much better. And she fixes my grammar, punctuation, and verb tense. And she asks me questions with dirty words in them. I love you Libby...**

**See y'all next time!**


	7. NOT A FULL CHAPTER  Chapter 7 Tease

**Hi readers and friends!**

**The following is not a full chapter (still working on that!), but it's a mini-chapter (3,700 words!) and a teaser for Chapter 7. It's my way of saying "Thank You!" for nominating "Beautiful" for "Best Lemon" in The Wordsmith Awards. It's a little something to hold you over until the next chapter is ready, and to let you all know how much I truly appreciate your votes.**

**If you want to vote, here is the site:**  
><strong>http:wordsmithawards(dot)blogspot(dot)com/p/voting(dot)html**

_**Voting ends this Saturday, May 26th.**_

**BTW, if you're looking for something else to read, check out the stories on the ballot. Amazing authors and amazing stories!**

**Working on chapter 7 - hope to have it out to you sooner rather than later. ;)**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: All things "Twilight" belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. :)<strong>

**CONTENT WARNING: exhibitionism, third party involvement (sharing), and object insertion**

* * *

><p>Bella walked into the dining room, one or two respectable paces behind me, then stood at my side while I took my seat at the head of the table. Carlisle had not yet arrived with breakfast, so we had a few minutes alone. I had timed it perfectly for what I wanted to do.<p>

She was stunningly beautiful, as always, and completely naked underneath the blue silk robe. I had made sure of that when I roused her out of a deep sleep - and a warm bed - a few minutes ago, and I told her that I wanted her to join me for breakfast since I would be at the office working all day. It was a chance for us to spend a few quality minutes together after the debacle the previous night. I wanted to start things that morning on a good note, maybe get us back on more solid footing. I was so desperate to tell her how I felt about her, but I knew that I needed to wait until I had more time.

Unfortunately, she was still being punished, and it took me an entire night of tossing, turning, and very little sleep, to come up with a way around my own rules. I felt that I couldn't back down, that it would make me look weak. I had told her that her punishment included a 24-hour period without any physical contact with me. Since I did not use pain in any way, I always had to be creative with my punishments, and contact deprivation was one that always worked for me. It wasn't harsh, but it seemed to successfully drive the message home for all of my previous submissives. However, with Isabella, I think _I _was suffering more than she was, or, at least, it felt that way at the moment. I wanted to touch her so badly, to feel her soft skin, to taste her delicate sweetness, and, most of all, I wanted to explain my actions the previous night. We needed to talk, but that was going to take a considerable amount of time which I did not have at the moment, so it would have to wait until tonight. I had so much I wanted to tell her, so much to apologize for, so much to make up for.

But until then, I decided in my sleep-deprived state, a little diversion at breakfast would have to do.

"Isabella," I said. "Come here, and take off your robe." I pointed to the side of the table next to me.

She didn't move for a few seconds, and I wondered if I would have to repeat myself, but then she moved into place, turned around to face me, and slipped off the robe, letting it fall to the floor. Her eyes were cast down, as I had instructed when we first met, but I needed to see her, to see what she was feeling, what she was thinking. I needed to make sure she was alright.

"Look at me, please," I ordered.

She lifted her head and met my eyes, and, at first, all I could see was pain, pain that I had caused and that I was desperate to erase. But, there was something else there as well, something I had never seen before. It was emotional and desperate and sweet, and I wanted to see it in her eyes every time she looked at me. I wondered if that's what I looked like when I looked at her, and what that might mean.

"You are so beautiful, Isabella," I said softly. "Every glorious inch of you." I paused for a moment, my eyes scanning her beautiful body, her flawless skin, and I couldn't hold back the grin that I was trying so desperately to suppress. "So beautiful, in fact, that I want to decorate my table with you this morning so that I can look at you while I have my breakfast."

She cocked her head, just the tiniest bit, like she didn't understand what I had just told her, what I wanted from her.

"Climb up here, my lovely," I said as I patted the empty table in front of me. The white linen tablecloth was completely bare since Carlisle hadn't served yet.

She looked at me again rather strangely, and I would have given anything at that moment to be able to read her thoughts, to know what she was thinking, but, she did as I asked, and climbed up on the table. She sat with her legs to the side, waiting for further instruction.

"Very good, my sweet," I said with a smile. I wanted her to know that I was pleased with her. "Now, lay back on the table, feet towards me. Stretch your arms out above your head, hands together, as if a rope was pulling on them from the other end of the table."

She slowly leaned back, keeping her eyes on me as long as she possibly could, until her back hit the table and she could no longer see me.

"Lovely. Feet flat on the table, knees bent." I knew what I was about to ask her to do, and I was suddenly hard as a rock, my dick straining against the very expensive fabric of my suit pants. I was getting hungry for her, and it killed me to know that I couldn't touch her until tonight. "Very good, Isabella. Now spread them wide, slide your feet back and out as far as they will go. Show me what's mine."

She slowly opened her legs until she was laid out before me, open, impossibly wide, and I felt like I could almost see inside her body. Her pink, wet flesh was displayed immediately in front of me, aching for my touch. Jesus, I was so fucking hard already, I was going to have to jack off in the bathroom when I got to the office.

"You look beautiful, Isabella. Absolute perfection. My table has never looked so enticing. Hold that position until I tell you otherwise."

Her chest rose and fell quickly as she took a deep breath, held it for a second, and then released it. She was steeling herself for a new experience. I hadn't known her for long, but I knew her well enough to read certain body language cues. She wanted whatever I was going to give her.

Just then, Carlisle walked into the room with a large, covered silver serving platter. He placed the platter on the table in front of me, right between Isabella's legs, completely indifferent to the scene before him. He had seen this before, many times - Carlisle was never surprised when he walked into a room in my home.

Isabella flinched when she heard him come in, and I heard her suck in a breath when he leaned over her to place the platter so close to her. She knew that he could see everything, _more _than everything, the way she was splayed out. She turned her head slightly to look at him, watching out of the corner of her eye, and I hadn't specifically told her not to, so I let it go. At one point, Carlisle met her eyes, and a moment of understanding seemed to pass between them. She relaxed a bit at that point.

I ate my breakfast as if it were any other meal.

As the meal went on, I could see her growing more and more aroused, the skin between her legs flushed dark pink and swollen. And she was so wet that it was slowly trickling out of her, a small spot growing on the tablecloth beneath her. All I had to do was stand up and lean over, and I could bury my face in there, licking and sucking and drinking from her until she screamed, but no... I wasn't allowed to touch her by my own damned rules. Instead, I just watched as she clenched and released her muscles in frustration, and I remembered what it felt like to be inside her when she did that. Fuck.

I looked at the heavy, silver knife beside my plate, and I picked it up, turning it in my hand, feeling the weight of it, studying the smooth round handle. I wasn't supposed to touch her for 24 hours, but surely if I touched her with an object, not with my hands, it wouldn't count right? I quickly convinced myself that it was allowed, and, holding the blade in my hand, I brought the heavy silver tip between her legs, to the soft skin on her inner thigh.

She flinched and gasped in surprise, both at the coldness of the object and the object itself, her body squeezing out more wetness onto the table.

I teased her with the knife, sliding it closer and closer to where she wanted it, and she started to lift her hips, grind them in circles, silently begging for me to ease her ache. I touched her clit, just barely, and she screamed and lifted her body off the table. So responsive. I was fucking determined to make last night up to her, if it took me a month of daily cunnilingus, I would do it, and honestly, I would fucking enjoy every delicious minute.

I brought it back down on her again, circling her swollen clit, similar to what I did with my tongue or my finger, and she moaned, such a sweet, sweet sound. I dipped the knife handle into her wetness, than back up to her clit, circling, pressing, slowly increasing the pressure with each circuit.

Carlisle came in then, refilled my coffee cup, and replaced the now-empty platter of food with a fresh plate. Eggs, muffins, toast, bagels, potatoes, bacon, sausage. Esme, Carlisle's wife and the head of the kitchen staff, always prepared a feast at every meal, and if I ate everything on that platter, I would no longer fit in the rack of custom tailored suits now hanging in my closet. I'd leave the rest for Isabella to eat after I left.

Isabella's eyes tracked Carlisle as he moved through the room, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her breathing increased in his presence.

"May I get you anything else, Sir?" he asked.

"Not right now, Carlisle, thank you." I slid the knife handle just inside her as I spoke, slowly in and out a few times, then pushed it all the way in, to the hilt. She moaned loudly, thrusting her hips up off the table, her hands in tight fists over her head.

I saw a small smile on Carlisle's face as he silently walked out of the room.

"Does that feel good, sweet girl?" I asked. "Hmm?" I pulled the handle almost all the way out, then pushed it back in, twisting it as I did. She moaned again, her eyes squeezed shut. "Knowing that Carlisle was watching, that he can see everything the way you're displayed for me? That he can see all of that sweet, wet pussy? Hear you moaning for me, begging for me to make you come?"

She groaned louder, pushing her hips against the knife, trying to get more.

"Answer me, Isabella," I said gently. I didn't want to be too domineering this morning. All I wanted was to give her a little bit of pleasure before I left for the day.

"Yes, Master," she said breathily. "It feels amazing. All of it. Please don't stop. Oh God, _please_." That last _please _was punctuated with a thrust of her hips and fuck, all I could think about was that I wanted to hear her say _my _name when she begged. Not _Master_, but _Edward_. Patience, I thought. I just needed to be patient.

I pulled the knife out and ran the heavy tip around her clit again, circling and pressing, then slipping it back inside her for a few slow, wet thrusts. She was moaning softly, her hips lifting to meet my movements, to find more contact. I had to watch her carefully, not push her too far just yet. Her moment was coming, but not now.

"Master, _please_," she whispered.

"Oh, my lovely," I said, my voice low and deep and growling with need. "You _know _what it does to me when you beg." And I pushed the knife handle deeper inside her, fucking her fast and hard.

Carlisle walked back in, standing at my side, but I didn't stop fucking Isabella with the knife. I simply turned to him, waiting for him to speak.

"Yes, Sir. Is there anything else I can get you this morning, Sir?" he asked politely, his eyes remaining firmly on me the entire time.

"Actually, yes, Carlisle," I said with a smirk, removing the knife from Isabella's wet pussy. "Just one more thing, please. Could you take care of this for me?" I gestured towards Isabella, and I watched him as his eyes travelled cautiously over her naked body. I couldn't get her off, but Carlisle sure as hell could.

"Of course, Sir," Carlisle said, calmly. It was a request that he had heard before.

He moved a few steps away from me until he was standing directly at Isabella's side, his expression unchanging. As he slowly reached between her legs, I whispered a reminder to her, just in case.

"Remember your safewords, my lovely."

He pressed just his thumb to her clit, and she jumped at the first contact, but when he started to rub in small circles, she began to moan. It was just too illicit for her... laying on the table, displayed and spread open for anyone to see, and then Carlisle touching her while I watched. She was so fucking aroused, and it showed on the tablecloth beneath her.

My cock was aching and hard, and I started to rub myself under the table while I watched. I had a fucking front row seat, and I loved to watch my subs under the ministrations of another, as long as I was in complete control of the situation. Carlisle had done this before, and knew exactly what his limits were, so I was completely comfortable with him touching Isabella for me.  
>After only a minute or two of Carlisle's gentle but insistent touch, Isabella was close and remembered to ask for her permission.<p>

"Master, please," she begged softly. "Please may I come? Please... please... oh God, _please_..."

There was nothing at that moment that I wanted more.

"Yes, sweet girl. Whenever you're ready," I replied, so pleased that I could give her this small pleasure.

"Thank you, Master," she sighed.

Carlisle must have increased the pressure with his thumb on hearing my words, and Isabella moaned loudly, lifting and grinding her hips in circles to meet Carlisle's hand. He continued his circles on and around her clit, his thumb slick in her wetness, moving easily. I could see the outline of his cock hard beneath his pants. Carlisle may have acted calm, but he was a man underneath, and he was not completely unaffected by my little games. But I always took care of him, and he knew it.

It was only a minute or two later, and I could hear her breathing change, her back arching, and I knew that she was about to come. I stared between her legs, and I watched her muscles clenching and releasing, tiny trickles of wetness running out of her and onto the table. I loved to watch a woman come from this angle, my face right there, spread wide, nothing hidden from me.

She muttered a few words and then lifted her hips, bearing down hard as she came. She moaned loud and long as the release wracked her body, and I watched as the wetness ran out of her. I could no longer resist, and I dipped my finger in the warm pool on my tablecloth. I brought my wet finger to my mouth and tasted my beautiful girl. So fucking good. I wanted to have that taste in my mouth all day while I was away from her, so anxious to get back home so that we could talk, and then she would be mine again, the way that I wanted her.

After she was finished, Carlisle removed his hand and calmly lifted a napkin from the table to wipe his hand clean, his expression never changing.

"Thank you, Carlisle," I said.

"My pleasure, Sir," he replied. No, actually, it was Isabella's pleasure, but his was coming. I always rewarded him in these situations.

"Isabella, climb down off the table and get down on your knees please."

She lifted her body from the table, sitting for a moment or two until her equilibrium settled, then she hopped off the table and started to kneel in front of me.

"No, no, Isabella," I quickly corrected her. "Not me. Carlisle. Don't you want to thank him for what he just did for you?"

She looked startled for a moment, but I could see the arousal in her eyes. She wanted to do it, and she wanted me to watch. I knew that from her paperwork, which was why I didn't hesitate.

"Yes, Master, of course," she replied demurely, but the blush creeping up her chest and neck told me that she was anything but.

She turned to Carlisle and dropped to her knees in front of him. He simply stood and waited. She lifted her head and looked up at him, and fuck if I didn't know _that _look, those big brown eyes, those long lashes. Carlisle was about to be a lucky man.

She reached up and slid her fingers into the waistband of his pants, and I heard him then, just a soft gasp as he held a breath and waited.

She slid the button open, then slowly lowered his zipper. His cock was straining against his boxers, and she didn't waste time teasing him. She reached inside and grabbed him firmly, pulling him from the fabric, and instantly lowered her mouth on him.

"Fuck," he said softly, his eyes closing for a moment.

She had turned her body to give me the perfect angle to watch, and I could no longer resist. I leaned back in my chair and unzipped my pants, taking my hard cock in my hand. I stroked myself slowly, keeping my hand in time with her mouth on Carlisle. She could see my actions just out of the corner of her eye, and I thought I saw a small smirk. She had to know that she affected me like that, especially when she was putting on a show for me.

She pulled all the way off of him and ran her tongue around the head, and although I could see Carlisle and hear his moans, all I could think of was how it felt when she did that to me, and how much I fucking loved it. I wet my thumb with pre-cum and ran it around the head of my cock, matching what she did to Carlisle.

"So good, Isabella," I moaned softly. "Suck his dick for me, baby. Make him come so I can watch."

She hummed in pleasure as she sunk her mouth back down on Carlisle and started a slow, sweet rhythm, hollowing her cheeks, licking the head when she could. It was torture for me, and I pounded my dick faster and faster while I watched, stroking the hard shaft, twisting over the head, my hand wet with my own issue.

She slipped a hand between Carlisle's legs, fondling his balls through the fabric of his pants, and his cool facade slipped a little. He made a noise and thrust his hips towards her, moaning softly as she continued to work him. It wasn't long before he was panting and close, and I was pumping furiously, trying to hold off so that I could come when Carlisle did.

"_Now_, Miss," was all Carlisle said before he came, moaning softly and pulsing in her mouth. There was never a conversation about _where _he would come, if he would pull out and come on the table, or the floor, or on her. It was just assumed that he would come in her mouth. He always did.

Watching her throat move as she swallowed Carlisle's release did it for me, and I came furiously. I had grabbed my napkin from my lap, not wanting to mess up my suit, and I filled it with my release, already thinking about tonight, when I could finally touch her again, and make her come until she begged me to stop.

When Carlisle was finally done, he removed his cock from Isabella's mouth, tucked himself back into his pants, and raised his zipper. He paused for a moment to gather his faculties, then he turned to me and spoke.

"Will there be anything else, Sir?" he asked, the facade back in place.

"No, Carlisle," I replied. "That will be all."

Carlisle nodded and walked out of the room. When he was just through the door, I stopped him.

"Oh Carlisle," I said. "Thank you."

He smiled a tiny smile and replied.

"It was my pleasure, Sir." And he walked out of the room.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading! FULL Chapter 7 should be coming soon. Thanks, as always, to LibbyLou862 for being an amazing beta and an even better RL BFF.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: All things "Twilight" belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. :)**

**CONTENT WARNING:**** exhibitionism, third party involvement (sharing, twice... but please just bear with me), object insertion, some inappropriate behavior by a Dom, and some angst. _If you don't like any of these things, please don't read. :)_**

**Reminder that this chapter contains the tease that I posted previously.**

* * *

><p><strong>Beautiful chapter 7 - the <em>FULL <em>chapter :)**

As soon as the sun came up, I climbed out of bed and started the shower. I didn't really sleep at all, between losing my shit with Isabella, _knowing _it was wrong even as it was happening, and the realization that I wanted something more with her. I was determined to make it all up to her, somehow.

I leaned against the tiled shower wall and sighed, letting the hot water cascade down my body. It was Monday, and I had to spend the entire day at the office, catching up on the work that I usually did over the weekend. Isabella was occupying every second of my free time, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I wanted to be with her more than I wanted to breathe, but I couldn't let the business collapse. I had come to expect a certain way of life, but I still had to work for it. It was going to kill me to be away from her for an entire day, especially today, but I had no choice. And maybe some distance would do us both good. She didn't need to be around a shit like me when I was such poor company. After I got my head straight, maybe.

I threw on a black suit from my closet and stood outside her closed bedroom door. I needed to talk with her before I left, make sure that she knew what the plan was for the day, that I wasn't mad at her. That she was still mine.

And I had an idea during my restless night, something to hopefully make her feel a little better before I left, but still staying within the guidelines of the punishment that I had so rashly applied. I knew that _nothing _would make it right until I apologized, explained myself, but I had to make the gesture.

I tapped softly on the door, since it was her private space, and then walked in.

She was still asleep, curled up on her side on the bed. She looked so beautiful, so innocent. I felt a fresh wave of regret and self-disgust.

I sat on the side of the bed, aching to brush her hair off of her face, but knowing that I couldn't touch her yet.

"Isabella," I called softly. "Wake up, sweet girl."

She sighed in her sleep and made a face, scrunching up her nose and pursing her lips, and she was so fucking cute, that I had to chuckle out loud.

"Isabella," I said again.

She blinked a couple of times and then turned and looked at me. I don't think she was fully awake yet, because she just sort of stared straight through me. Then, all of a sudden, she jumped as if she realized where she was and who I was.

"Master!" she exclaimed, biting on her bottom lip nervously. "I... I'm sorry... did you... "

She was sputtering, worrying that she had somehow failed me in her sleep, and I couldn't let her go on thinking that for a second more.

"Baby, it's okay," I soothed. "I have to go back to work today, and I wanted to talk about the plan for the day."

She nodded earnestly, sitting up a little, so willing to please me.

"Since I'll be gone all day, I thought you could spend the day getting yourself organized," I suggested. "Get whatever you need from your old apartment. Buy whatever you need. Get all of your appointments set up."

She looked hesitant, like she wanted to ask a question but she was afraid to. So I kept talking, hoping I would hit on one of her issues, and, in the meantime, maybe she could gather the courage to ask what she needed to ask.

"I have a car for you, completely for your use. It's in the garage. Silver Volvo." I smiled. "I put the key on your dresser."

She seemed to relax a little. So that was one of her questions. I kept going.

"I left you a credit card as well. Use it for anything you need. You can use it for cash too. I put the PIN on a slip of paper with the card."

"Yes, Sir," she replied and started to climb out of bed, thinking that we had concluded our business for the morning. I stopped her before she sat up.

"Isabella, I - " I started, wanting to say _something _to her about my reprehensible behavior before I let it go too much longer. "I... we..." I cleared my throat and ran my hand nervously through my already messy hair. "I'd like to talk to you tonight. About... last night - "

"Oh Master, I'm so sorry," she immediately started to apologize. "I shouldn't have -"

"Isabella, stop. You didn't do anything wrong. It was... well, it was all me. Which is what I'd like to talk to you about. I need to explain, but we can't do that now." I paused. "Okay?" I asked with a smile. "Tonight?"

She nodded eagerly, a warm, pink blush coloring her cheeks. She started biting her lip again, and my eyes were instantly drawn to her mouth, watching her pink tongue peek out and wet her lip, her teeth gently pulling and tugging. I felt a sudden and intense physical need for her, an ache, just to feel her warm, soft skin underneath my fingertips, the slippery slickness between her legs. I took a deep breath to clear my head.

"Until then, my lovely," I said with a grin, standing next to the bed, "I'd like for you to come downstairs and join me for breakfast, if you would."

She seemed suddenly lighter, happier, and she hopped out of bed towards the bathroom. Right before she closed the door, she turned back to me as if she had suddenly remembered something, and asked my permission to brush her teeth, make herself presentable.

I laughed and nodded, and she giggled lightheartedly, disappearing behind the door. It thrilled me to see her happy again, no matter what the reason.

Only a couple of minutes later, she returned to me, hair brushed, face scrubbed, and wearing only the blue silk robe. I could clearly see the outline of her body against the fabric, her hard nipples, and I knew that she was naked beneath. Perfect.

"Ready?" I asked. I wanted desperately to take her hand in mine, but I knew that I couldn't. So when she nodded in agreement, I simply turned and walked downstairs, slowly, hoping she was following.

* * *

><p>Bella walked into the dining room, one or two respectable paces behind me, then stood at my side while I took my seat at the head of the table. Carlisle had not yet arrived with breakfast, so we had a few minutes alone. I had timed it perfectly for what I wanted to do. It was a chance for us to spend a few quality minutes together after the debacle the previous night. I wanted to start things that morning on a good note, maybe get us back on more solid footing. I was so desperate to tell her how I felt about her, but I knew that I needed to wait until I had more time.<p>

Unfortunately, she was still being punished, and it took me the entire night of tossing, turning, and very little sleep, to come up with a way around my own rules. I felt that I couldn't back down, that it would make me look weak. I had told her that her punishment included a 24-hour period without any physical contact with me. Since I did not use pain in any way, I always had to be creative with my punishments, and contact deprivation was one that always worked for me. It wasn't harsh, but it seemed to successfully drive the message home for all of my previous submissives. However, with Isabella, I think _I _was suffering more than she was, or, at least, it felt that way at the moment. I wanted to touch her so badly, to feel her soft skin, to taste her delicate sweetness, and, most of all, I wanted to explain my actions the previous night. We needed to talk, but that was going to take a considerable amount of time which I did not have at the moment, so it would have to wait until tonight. I had so much I wanted to tell her, so much to apologize for, so much to make up for.

But until then, I decided in my sleep-deprived state, a little diversion at breakfast would have to do.

"Isabella," I said. "Come here, and take off your robe." I pointed to the side of the table next to me.

She didn't move for a few seconds, and I wondered if I would have to repeat myself, but then she moved into place, turned around to face me, and slipped off the robe, letting it fall to the floor. Her eyes were cast down, as I had instructed when we first met, but I needed to see her, to see what she was feeling, what she was thinking. I needed to make sure she was alright.

"Look at me, please," I ordered.

She lifted her head and met my eyes, and there was something there, something I had never seen before. It was emotional and desperate and sweet, and I wanted to see it in her eyes every time she looked at me. I wondered if that's what I looked like when I looked at her, and what that might mean.

"You are so beautiful, Isabella," I said softly. "Every glorious inch of you." I paused for a moment, my eyes scanning her beautiful body, her flawless skin, and I couldn't hold back the grin that I was trying so desperately to suppress. "So beautiful, in fact, that I want to decorate my table with you this morning so that I can look at you while I have my breakfast."

She cocked her head, just the tiniest bit, like she didn't understand what I had just told her, what I wanted from her.

"Climb up here, my lovely," I said as I patted the empty table in front of me. The white linen tablecloth was completely bare since Carlisle hadn't served yet.

She looked at me again rather strangely, and I would have given anything at that moment to be able to read her thoughts, to know what she was thinking, but, she did as I asked, and climbed up on the table. She sat with her legs to the side, waiting for further instruction.

"Very good, my sweet," I said with a smile. I wanted her to know that I was pleased with her. "Now, lay back on the table, feet towards me. Stretch your arms out above your head, hands together, as if a rope was pulling on them from the other end of the table."

She slowly leaned back, keeping her eyes on me as long as she possibly could, until her back hit the table and she could no longer see me.

"Lovely. Feet flat on the table, knees bent." I knew what I was about to ask her to do, and I was suddenly hard as a rock, my dick straining against the very expensive fabric of my suit pants. I was getting hungry for her, and it killed me to know that I couldn't touch her until tonight. "Very good, Isabella. Now spread them wide, slide your feet back and out as far as they will go. Show me what's mine."

She slowly opened her legs until she was laid out before me, open, impossibly wide, and I felt like I could almost see inside her body. Her pink, wet flesh was displayed immediately in front of me, aching for my touch. Jesus, I was so fucking hard already.

"You look beautiful, Isabella. Absolute perfection. My table has never looked so enticing. Hold that position until I tell you otherwise."

Her chest rose and fell quickly as she took a deep breath, held it for a second, and then released it. She was steeling herself for a new experience. I hadn't known her for long, but I knew her well enough to read certain body language cues. She wanted whatever I was going to give her.

Just then, Carlisle walked into the room with a large, covered silver serving platter. He placed the platter on the table in front of me, right between Isabella's legs, completely indifferent to the scene before him. He had seen this before, many times - Carlisle was never surprised when he walked into a room in my home.

Isabella flinched when she heard him come in, and I heard her suck in a breath when he leaned over her to place the platter so close to her. She knew that he could see everything, _more _than everything, the way she was splayed out. She turned her head slightly to look at him, watching out of the corner of her eye, and I hadn't specifically told her not to, so I let it go. At one point, Carlisle met her eyes, and a moment of understanding seemed to pass between them. She relaxed a bit at that point.

I ate my breakfast as if it were any other meal.

As the meal went on, I could see her growing more and more aroused, the skin between her legs flushed dark pink and swollen. And she was so wet that it was slowly trickling out of her, a small spot growing on the tablecloth beneath her. All I had to do was stand up and lean over, and I could bury my face in there, licking and sucking and drinking from her until she screamed, but no... I wasn't allowed to touch her by my own damned rules. Instead, I just watched as she clenched and released her muscles in frustration, and I remembered what it felt like to be inside her when she did that. Fuck.

I looked at the heavy, silver knife beside my plate, and I picked it up, turning it in my hand, feeling the weight of it, studying the smooth round handle. I wasn't supposed to touch her for 24 hours, but surely if I touched her with an object, not with my hands, it wouldn't count right? I quickly convinced myself that it was allowed, and, holding the blade in my hand, I brought the heavy silver tip between her legs, to the soft skin on her inner thigh.

She flinched and gasped in surprise, both at the coldness of the object and the object itself, her body squeezing out more wetness onto the table.

I teased her with the knife handle, sliding it closer and closer to where she wanted it, and she started to lift her hips, grind them in circles, silently begging for me to ease her ache. I touched her clit, just barely, and she screamed and lifted her body off the table. So responsive. I was fucking determined to make last night up to her, if it took me a month of daily cunnilingus, I would do it, and honestly, I would fucking enjoy every delicious minute.

I brought it back down on her again, circling her swollen clit, similar to what I did with my tongue or my finger, and she moaned, such a sweet, sweet sound. I dipped the knife handle into her wetness, then back up to her clit, circling, pressing, slowly increasing the pressure with each circuit.

Carlisle came in then, refilled my coffee cup, and replaced the now-empty platter of food with a fresh plate. Eggs, muffins, toast, bagels, potatoes, bacon, sausage. Esme, Carlisle's wife and the head of the kitchen staff, always prepared a feast at every meal, and if I ate everything on that platter, I would no longer fit in the rack of custom tailored suits now hanging in my closet. I'd leave the rest for Isabella to eat after I left.

Isabella's eyes tracked Carlisle as he moved through the room, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her breathing increased in his presence.

"May I get you anything else, Sir?" he asked.

"Not right now, Carlisle, thank you." I slid the knife handle just inside her as I spoke, slowly in and out a few times, then pushed it all the way in, to the hilt. She moaned loudly, thrusting her hips up off the table, her hands in tight fists over her head.

I saw a small smile on Carlisle's face as he silently walked out of the room.

"Does that feel good, sweet girl?" I asked. "Hmm?" I pulled the handle almost all the way out, then pushed it back in, twisting it as I did. She moaned again, her eyes squeezed shut. "Knowing that Carlisle was watching, that he can see everything the way you're displayed for me? That he can see all of that sweet, wet pussy? Hear you moaning for me, begging for me to make you come?"

She groaned louder, pushing her hips against the knife, trying to get more.

"Answer me, Isabella," I said gently. I didn't want to be too domineering this morning. All I wanted was to give her a little bit of pleasure before I left for the day.

"Yes, Master," she said breathily. "It feels amazing. All of it. Please don't stop. Oh God, _please_." That last _please _was punctuated with a thrust of her hips and fuck, all I could think about was that I wanted to hear her say _my _name when she begged. Not _Master_, but _Edward_. Patience, I thought. I just needed to be patient.

I pulled the knife out and ran the heavy tip around her clit again, circling and pressing, then slipping it back inside her for a few slow, wet thrusts. She was moaning softly, her hips lifting to meet my movements, to find more contact. I had to watch her carefully, not push her too far just yet. Her moment was coming, but not now.

"Master, _please_," she whispered.

"Oh, my lovely," I said, my voice low and deep and growling with need. "You _know _what it does to me when you beg." And I pushed the knife handle deeper inside her, fucking her fast and hard.

Carlisle walked back in, standing at my side, but I didn't stop fucking Isabella with the knife. I simply turned to him, waiting for him to speak.

"Yes, Sir. Is there anything else I can get you this morning, Sir?" he asked politely, his eyes remaining firmly on me the entire time.

"Actually, yes, Carlisle," I said with a smirk, removing the knife from Isabella's wet pussy. "Just one more thing, please. Could you take care of this for me?" I gestured towards Isabella, and I watched him as his eyes travelled cautiously over her naked body. I couldn't get her off, but Carlisle sure as hell could.

"Of course, Sir," Carlisle said, calmly. It was a request that he had heard before.

He moved a few steps away from me until he was standing directly at Isabella's side, his expression unchanging. As he slowly reached between her legs, I whispered a reminder to her, just in case.

"Remember your safewords, my lovely."

He pressed just his thumb to her clit, and she jumped at the first contact, but when he started to rub in small circles, she began to moan. It was just too illicit for her... laying on the table, displayed and spread open for anyone to see, and then Carlisle touching her while I watched. She was so fucking aroused, and it showed on the tablecloth beneath her.

My cock was aching and hard, and I started to rub myself under the table while I watched. I had a fucking front row seat, and I loved to watch my subs under the ministrations of another, as long as I was in complete control of the situation. Carlisle had done this before, and knew exactly what his limits were, so I was completely comfortable with him touching Isabella for me.  
>After only a minute or two of Carlisle's gentle but insistent touch, Isabella was close and remembered to ask for her permission.<p>

"Master, please," she begged softly. "Please may I come? Please... please... oh God, _please_..."

There was nothing at that moment that I wanted more.

"Yes, sweet girl. Whenever you're ready," I replied, so pleased that I could give her this small pleasure.

"Thank you, Master," she sighed.

Carlisle must have increased the pressure with his thumb on hearing my words, and Isabella moaned loudly, lifting and grinding her hips in circles to meet Carlisle's hand. He continued his circles on and around her clit, and she was so wet that his thumb was slick, moving easily. I could see the outline of his cock hard beneath his pants. Carlisle may have acted calm, but he was a man underneath, and he was not completely unaffected by my little games. But I always took care of him, and he knew it.

It was only a minute or two later, and I could hear her breathing change, her back arching, and I knew that she was about to come. I stared between her legs, and I watched her muscles clenching and releasing, tiny trickles of wetness running out of her and onto the table. I loved to watch a woman come from this angle, my face right there, legs spread wide, nothing hidden from me.

She muttered a few words and then lifted her hips, bearing down hard as she came. She moaned loud and long as the release wracked her body, and I watched as the wetness ran out of her. I could no longer resist, and I dipped my finger in the warm pool on my tablecloth. I brought my wet finger to my mouth and tasted my beautiful girl. So fucking good. I wanted to have that taste in my mouth all day while I was away from her, so anxious to get back home so that we could talk, and then she would be mine again, the way that I wanted her.

After she was finished, Carlisle removed his hand and calmly lifted a napkin from the table to wipe his hand clean, his expression never changing.

"Thank you, Carlisle," I said.

"My pleasure, Sir," he replied. No, actually, it was Isabella's pleasure, but his was coming. I always rewarded him in these situations.

"Isabella, climb down off the table and get down on your knees please."

She lifted her body from the table, sitting for a moment or two until her equilibrium settled, then she hopped off the table and started to kneel in front of me.

"No, no, Isabella," I quickly corrected her. "Not me. Carlisle. Don't you want to thank him for what he just did for you?"

She looked startled for a moment, but I could see the arousal in her eyes. She wanted to do it, and she wanted me to watch. I knew that from her paperwork, which was why I didn't hesitate.

"Yes, Master, of course," she replied demurely, but the blush creeping up her chest and neck told me that she was anything but.

She turned to Carlisle and dropped to her knees in front of him. He simply stood and waited. She lifted her head and looked up at him, and fuck if I didn't know _that _look, those big brown eyes, those long lashes. Carlisle was about to be a lucky man.

She reached up and slid her fingers into the waistband of his pants, and I heard him then, just a soft gasp as he held a breath and waited.

She slid the button open, then slowly lowered his zipper. His cock was straining against his boxers, and she didn't waste time teasing him. She reached inside and grabbed him firmly, pulling him from the fabric, and instantly lowered her mouth on him.

"Fuck," he said softly, his eyes closing for a moment.

She had turned her body to give me the perfect angle to watch, and I could no longer resist. I leaned back in my chair and unzipped my pants, taking my hard cock in my hand. I stroked myself slowly, keeping my hand in time with her mouth on Carlisle. She could see my actions just out of the corner of her eye, and I thought I saw a small smirk. She had to know that she affected me like that, especially when she was putting on a show for me.

She pulled all the way off of him and ran her tongue around the head, and although I could see Carlisle and hear his moans, all I could think of was how it felt when she did that to me, and how much I fucking loved it. I wet my thumb with pre-cum and ran it around the head of my cock, matching what she did to Carlisle.

"So good, Isabella," I moaned softly. "Suck his dick for me, baby. Make him come so I can watch."

She hummed in pleasure as she sunk her mouth back down on Carlisle and started a slow, sweet rhythm, hollowing her cheeks, licking the head when she could. It was torture for me, and I pounded my dick faster and faster while I watched, stroking the hard shaft, twisting over the head, my hand wet with my own issue.

She slipped a hand between Carlisle's legs, fondling his balls through the fabric of his pants, and his cool facade slipped a little. He made a noise and thrust his hips towards her, moaning softly as she continued to work him. It wasn't long before he was panting and close, and I was pumping furiously, trying to hold off so that I could come when Carlisle did.

"_Now_, Miss," was all Carlisle said before he came, moaning softly and pulsing in her mouth. There was never a conversation about _where _he would come, if he would pull out and come on the table, or the floor, or on her. It was just assumed that he would come in her mouth. He always did.

Watching her throat move as she swallowed Carlisle's release did it for me, and I came furiously. I had grabbed my napkin from my lap, not wanting to mess up my suit, and I filled it with my release, already thinking about tonight, when I could finally touch her again, and make her come until she begged me to stop.

When Carlisle was finally done, he removed his cock from Isabella's mouth, tucked himself back into his pants, and raised his zipper. He paused for a moment to gather his faculties, then he turned to me and spoke.

"Will there be anything else, Sir?" he asked, the facade back in place.

"No, Carlisle," I replied. "That will be all."

Carlisle nodded and walked out of the room. When he was just through the door, I stopped him.

"Oh Carlisle," I said. "Thank you."

He smiled a tiny smile and replied.

"It was my pleasure, Sir." And he walked out of the room.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Whitlock on line one, Sir," Jessica said over the intercom.<p>

It had been a long fucking day, and I still had a couple of hours of work left to do before I could go home. The phone call was unexpected, and it made me instantly nervous. Jasper Whitlock was my oldest and dearest friend, my mentor, and the man who trained me to be a Dom. But I knew exactly why he was calling me, and, today of all days, I just didn't know if I could handle it.

I sighed and picked up the handset, punching the blinking light as I leaned back in my chair.

"Cullen," I answered tersely, scrubbing my hand across my jaw.

"Edward Cullen, you son of a bitch," Jasper said with that hint of south Texas in his voice that so many women found endearing. "I hear you have news."

"Jasper, hey." Deep breath. "Yeah, who told you?"

He chuckled.

"I had dinner with Peter and Charlotte last night, and they told me all about your little party. Sorry I missed it."

I waited, keeping my mouth shut, knowing he had more to say.

"They told me that you had some hot little brunette in tow, and that you disappeared upstairs for half the fucking party. Said they had to let themselves out."

Jesus, that fucking killed me. Hearing him refer to Isabella that way, with so little respect, like she was just another sub.

"So," he said. "Who is she, and when do I get to meet her?"

"Fuck, Jasper, you don't waste much time, do you?"

"You're stalling, Cullen."

"Okay, okay," I sighed again, resigned that I would just have to give him the information he wanted, or he would never let up. "She's new. She just showed up at my party, and … " I didn't know how to explain the instant connection I had with Isabella, or how she was different than any other sub I had ever had - hell, any _woman _I had ever had - or, even worse, how to explain my epiphany the night before. To my knowledge, Jasper had never had a relationship with one of his subs past their written agreement, and if he had, he certainly had never told me about it. I just didn't think he would understand.

"And?"

"I don't know, Jasper. She's different. She's new, completely untrained. I'm... I'm her first." I told him that last bit of information to try to express to him the special bond we had, but he took it in completely the wrong way and started laughing lasciviously.

"Oh, yeah, Cullen, that's fucking hot." He laughed some more, and it made me feel sick, like I was cheating on her, or talking about her behind her back. "So," he lowered his voice and snickered. "How is she? Is she a good little girl for Daddy?"

That was it. I fucking exploded.

"Jesus, Jasper, _fuck_! Don't fucking talk about her like that, okay?"

There was complete silence on the other end of the line.

"Uh, Cullen? You have something you want to tell me? Sounds like this chick is getting under your skin, and that's not the Edward Cullen I've known since college."

"No," I sighed. "I don't know. Just... let's just change the subject. How's Alice?"

"Alice is great," he said in a clipped, all-business tone. "She does what she's told, and she keeps me very happy." He paused, but just for a second. He wasn't going to let it drop. "So, when can I meet her? How about dinner tonight?"

_Meet her_ meant _fuck he_r to Jasper. It wasn't that he was a misogynistic asshole, it was just something we had always done, a long-standing arrangement between the two of us. When either of us had a new sub, we would invite the other person over for a test drive, so to speak. It had never been an issue before, and there was no real way for me to explain it to him. What a fucking coward I was.

And his timing couldn't possibly have been worse. I had so much on my mind already, and I just wanted to go home and start making it up to Isabella. But I knew him. He would not be deterred. So I pushed my feelings aside, and tried to remember what it was like to enjoy these little trysts between the two of us. Tried to be what I used to call "normal."

"Sure, Jasper, come for dinner. At 6."

"Excellent. Later, Cullen." He abruptly hung up the phone, satisfied that he was going to get what he wanted.

I had to call Isabella immediately and let her know about the change of plans.

"Hello?" She answered, breathlessly, on the first ring, like she had been waiting for my call all day. Maybe she was missing me. I knew I sure as fuck was missing her. Just hearing her voice, just that one word, and I felt instantly better.

"Hello my lovely," I whispered. "Miss me?"

I heard her suck in a breath on the other end of the line before humming back an arousing and affirmative reply.

"How's your day? Are you getting anything done?" I didn't want her to think I was checking up on her. I simply wanted to express interest in her life, and in all honesty, I just wanted to hear her voice. She volunteered details about her day, the errands she ran, the items she bought for her room, and I grinned as she spoke, imagining her expressions, her gestures.

"Slight change of plans for tonight. An old friend of mine is joining us for dinner. Let Carlisle know, would you?"

"Yes, Sir. Of course." I swear, I could hear her blushing when I said Carlisle's name. Why did her involvement with him not bother me at all, but the thought of Jasper touching her made me want to hit something?

"Isabella, one more thing," I said. "I'd like you to wear something special tonight. The navy sleeveless dress in your closet. With the nude thigh highs. And the nude patent pumps. Alright?"

"Yes, Sir." she replied softly.

"The dress? The shoes?" I said roughly. "They're for Jasper." Then, I lowered my voice even more. "But for _me_? I want you completely naked underneath. I want to know that the fabric is rubbing against your skin during dinner, making your nipples hard. I want you completely aware of your body and how much I want to fuck you. Jesus, I'm so hard for you right now, baby. I can't fucking wait until tonight, until I can touch you again. I'm gonna make you come until you beg me to stop."

I could hear her pants, a soft keening moan, before she could finally answer me.

"Oh God... yes."

"6 o'clock, Isabella. Be ready." I hung up the phone before she could answer.

* * *

><p>She was standing at the door when I walked in, waiting for me, and I was momentarily speechless, stunned by her effortless beauty. Her hair was down, in long, gentle waves, and her face was glowing and flushed pink. The blue of the dress was beautiful against her skin, and her legs looked endlessly long in the silky stockings and heels.<p>

I knew that she was completely bare underneath the dress, and there was nothing I wanted more at that moment than to push the dress up to her waist and fuck her against the wall, but just as I stepped forward to finally touch her, now that the 24-hours of hell were up, Jasper knocked on the door. I closed my eyes and sighed heavily in frustration, and, instead, I took her face in both of my hands and kissed her softly.

"You look perfect," I whispered, then kissed her again.

* * *

><p>Dinner was uneventful. Jasper was a perfect gentleman, engaging Isabella in conversation, telling stories about our college days. It was nice to catch up with him, but I knew what was coming, and my stomach was in knots.<p>

After dessert, there was a noticeable lull in the conversation, and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jasper sit up a little straighter.

"So, Isabella," he drawled. "Why don't you come stand over here by me, pretty lady?"

She looked to me for permission, and I nodded slightly. I could only hope that he knew me better than I thought he did, and that he would act accordingly.

She walked over to his side and waited.

"You are a lovely, lovely girl, honey," he crooned, his hand slowly creeping up her thigh. "Turn around for me please," he ordered. She instantly responded to the change of tone in his voice, and turned so that she was facing away from him.

"Let's see what you have on under here, shall we?" He started to lower her zipper, and I discovered that I was gripping the corners of the table so hard that the tablecloth was starting to slide towards me. The zipper revealed more and more of her naked skin, and Jasper's eyes grew large and wide in anticipation. He reached up to slide the dress off of her shoulders, and I had to speak up, had to try to change the direction that this was going.

"Jasper - " I said suddenly. He turned slowly and looked at me, almost angry that I dared to interrupt him, but I kept going. "Let's take this into the study, okay?"

He kept his eyes glued to mine, like he was trying to figure out what my angle was, until he finally agreed, nodding slowly.

"Alright."

He walked ahead of us, and I grabbed her arm to pull her back next to me. I had to tell her something before this went any further.

"Isabella," I turned to her, taking her face in my hands. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, okay?" She looked at me quizzically.

"But I want to please you, Master. I want to do whatever it is you want of me." She was so innocent, so sweet, so willing to please me, no matter what the consequences. But I had to make her understand, that she really didn't have to do this. I wanted her to scream "red" when he touched her, to end it all, something that with any other sub would have mortified and embarrassed me in front of my mentor. But with Isabella, it was different. Hell, everything was different with her.

"I know that sweet girl, I know that... but... just... remember your safewords, and if you feel uncomfortable, don't hesitate to use them. Promise me."

She looked at me, so sweet and sincere and honest, and nodded.

When we walked into the study, her small, warm hand in mine, Jasper had already poured himself a drink and was sitting in my red leather chair. I walked her over to him and kissed her neck softly, whispering in her ear.

"Remember..."

I sat in the love seat directly across from him. I wanted to enjoy this so desperately, like we used to, but I was actually thinking more about making sure that I was close enough to pull him off of her, if it came to that. Why couldn't I just stop it now, before it even began? I _knew _it was something I didn't want. I shouldn't have allowed it to continue. This could only end badly.

"Ah, the lovely Isabella," he said as she stood directly in front of him, perfectly assuming the stance I had taught her. "Look at me." He ran his eyes up and down her body, slowly assessing. It made my stomach clench. He made a twirling motion with his finger, indicating that he wanted her to turn around again, face away from him. Her zipper was still down, exposing completely bare and perfect skin from her neck to the top of her ass. This time, when he slid his hands underneath the shoulders of her dress, pushing it off and letting it fall to the floor, he glared at me instead of her, like he was daring me to try to stop him again.

Jesus. What a fucking beautiful, erotic sight. I momentarily forgot about the pathetic situation I found myself in, and I just concentrated on the visage before me. Small breasts, hard, rosy nipples. Long, trim torso, flat stomach. Legs that seemed to go on for miles, sheathed in barely-there-colored silky stockings, the lace-trimmed tops just hitting her mid thigh. And she had been to the salon today, as I had asked, and her pussy was soft and completely bare, just how I liked it. I had plans with that pussy tonight, plans that I wanted to start _right fucking now._

But then Jasper started touching her again, emotionally distant, almost like an examination. His hands were on her ass, squeezing, stroking, spreading, prodding.

"Beautiful, honey," he cooed. "Just beautiful." His accent was starting to disgust me. Please, God, tell me that she didn't find it attractive. Please tell me that she only wanted me and my hands, my lips, my tongue, my cock. "Turn and face me, please."

Her back was to me now, which meant that he could see everything. Every private part of her, every part that was mine and mine only. I ran my eyes over her back, her hips, her ass, and I saw red marks on her skin. Marks where he had squeezed too hard with his dirty hands. She was delicate and bruised very easily. So help me God, if he hurt her, I would fucking kill him, rip him limb from limb.

His hands were on her breasts now, feeling the weight of them in his palms, then squeezing the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He was trying to illicit some sort of response from her, but I think she was holding out for my sake. How she knew, I didn't understand. But she somehow knew that if I heard her moan, _for him_, that I would lose my shit.

He brought his hands down between her legs, and it was probably a good thing I couldn't see exactly what he was doing. But he was humming and moaning to himself, which meant he was pleased with what he had found.

He sat back then, with a smile, and I sat back and relaxed for the first time all evening. He had checked her out and found her to be satisfactory, and I had kept my cool. Thank God. Now, I just had to get him out of here, and -

Something was wrong.

He was standing, holding her hand, and pulling her over to the desk. To my fucking desk. He pushed down on her back until she was completely bent over and spread out in front of him, and then he started to unbuckle his pants.

"Now... let's see just exactly what this little filly can do," he grinned. I hated his goddamned southwestern euphemisms.

He pulled out his cock and positioned himself at her entrance, one hand still firmly on her back, pressing her down hard into the desk so that she couldn't move away from him.

_Red_, Isabella, _red_! Please, baby. Oh God, please. Please say it before I go insane.  
>He started to push inside of her, grunting and moaning, and I saw her wince slightly. He hadn't even checked to see if she was ready for him. He was just going to fuck her like that. Jesus, was he hurting her? Oh God, her nightmare. Someone had hurt her before, and I was letting it happen again.<p>

That was _it_. That was fucking _it_. I knew I should have never let it go this far. I knew I shouldn't have invited him over at all. I should have just told him that she was special to me, and that she was mine, goddamnit, mine. Mine to touch. Mine to share. Mine to worship.

I stood up in a rush, my hands clenched in rage, and I said the only word that I knew would make him stop.

"_Red_, Jasper," I said, just loudly enough for them both to hear. "Fucking _red_." He stopped moving within her, and slowly turned his head to look at me, eyebrows cocked in mock concern. He had to respect the safeword; I mean, he _had _to. It was our most absolute rule. But he wasn't moving away from her. What the fuck? "Jasper," I said through clenched teeth, "I mean it. Get the fuck off of her right now." He still didn't move, just stared at me incredulously. "_Now_! Jasper!" I screamed. "_Right fucking now_!"

It finally seemed to click with him, and he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, spreading that smarmy Southern grin across his face. He backed up slowly, and his dick was finally pulled free from her. I immediately grabbed a blanket from the back of the loveseat, and put my hand on his chest, firmly pushing him back, out of my way. I wrapped the blanket around her, covering her completely and pulling her up off the desk into the safety of my arms. She clung to me and whimpered.

I stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head and murmuring in her ear. "It's okay, baby. It's okay. You're safe. I'm here." I would never let anyone hurt her again.

Having her in my arms, away from him, gave me a small measure of comfort, and it allowed me to compose myself, but only slightly.

"Jasper, please leave." He started to open his mouth to object, to bitch, to explain - I didn't care which. I just didn't want to fucking hear it. I just wanted him gone. "I don't want to hear it. Just leave now. Right fucking now... Get out of my house."

He shook his head in disappointment, but I couldn't care less at the moment. I just needed him to leave so I could take care of my girl.

He walked out, quite unceremoniously, and didn't say a single word. I pulled Isabella over to the loveseat and sat her down. I climbed down on the floor in front of her. on my knees, and took both of her hands in mine.

"Are you... " I swallowed hard. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you? I swear to God, if he hurt you, I'll -"

"Master, I'm fine, really. He didn't hurt me. I mean, it wasn't the most pleasant thing I've ever experienced, but he didn't hurt me. But..." She looked down at her hands in her lap, intertwined with my own.

"What, baby? What is it? You can tell me. You can tell me anything, please." I begged of her. I had to know what she was thinking, how she was feeling.

"Well... are you... um... are you upset with me because I didn't please your friend? You seemed so angry, and I don't know what I did wrong." She was rambling. "All I want to do is make you happy, and I know I'm new and inexperienced, but I need you to tell me, so that I can - "

"Isabella, shh." I stopped her, with a finger pressed softly across her lips. I had fucked this up again. _Again_. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with me? She thought _she _did something wrong! It couldn't wait another second. I had to tell her, and I had to tell her _now_. I took a deep breath.

"I have so much to tell you. So much." I ran my fingers nervously through my hair, then grabbed her hands again, needing _desperately _to feel that physical connection between us. "And I need you to just listen until I'm finished, okay? If you don't, I just, well, I might never get this all out, and I need you to know." She nodded.

"Jesus. I don't know where to start," I mumbled to myself.

"Okay, first. Yesterday. Last night." Deep breath. "I was … I was wrong, Isabella. I was so, so wrong." She started to open her mouth to object, to take the blame for everything, which was her nature, but I stopped her, again.

"No, baby, please. Let me finish."

She nodded hesitantly.

"We had such an amazing day the day before, it was just perfect. I wouldn't have changed a single thing. And then you asked to be me for a day, and I thought I could do it. So I said yes. It shouldn't have been a problem. And it started out so good, the dining room, Jesus, your mouth. I fucking love your mouth, Isabella." I brought her hands to my lips and kissed them softly, reverently, before continuing. "And then we went upstairs, and you bound me to the bed, which I had agreed to. But... it made me uncomfortable. I had never been in a situation like that before. Where all of my control had been stripped away. I was so confused. I wanted you so much, more than I've ever wanted anyone before, and I wanted to give you this gift that you so deserved, and it should have been fun, but I fucking freaked out."

I stopped for a minute to gather my thoughts, knowing that I was about to cross the line with her, tell her something I had never before told a woman.

"I was... feeling something, Isabella." I lifted my head and looked in her eyes. "I was feeling something for you, and that scared the shit out of me. I didn't know how to deal with it."

I paused, waiting for her to run screaming from the room, but she didn't. She just sat there with the most open, earnest look on her face, listening to everything I said, waiting for me to continue.

"I had given you only one rule, and that was to stop when I said stop. And I kept warning you, telling you that you were going too far, but that wasn't really it. It was just that I couldn't handle what I was feeling."

"Master, please, let me explain," she interrupted before I could stop her. "I thought you meant the _word _'stop'... like it was your safeword. I swear I would have stopped if I thought - "

"Baby, I know. Shh. You were right. I was completely wrong. I did say that, and I reacted completely inappropriately. You did nothing wrong." I grabbed her face in my hands and said it again to make sure she understood. "You did nothing wrong, it was all me."

A single tear slipped out of the corner of her eye, and I died a million deaths. I had made her cry again. Fuck. I pulled her face to mine and kissed her eyes, her tears, wanting to show her that her fears, her heartache, that they were my burden to carry. I caused them, and I was responsible for making them go away.

"Sweet, sweet girl," I whispered. Now the hard part.

"And then, after that," I said, my voice cracking with emotion. "I really fucked up. I punished you for something you didn't even do. And, it wasn't even really a punishment. It was... shit... it was fucking abuse." I was so ashamed of myself, for doing this to anyone, losing control like that, but especially doing that to Isabella. I laid my forehead down in her lap and tried to calm myself. I felt her fingers in my hair, stroking my head. She was comforting me. After all I had done to her, and she was comforting me.

"God, baby," I mumbled in her lap. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I will never forgive myself for acting like that, never..."

"Shh, it's okay... it's okay," she whispered, her fingers softly moving through my hair.

I lifted up then and looked in her eyes, because I had to finish this. I wasn't quite done yet listing all of my atrocities.

"And tonight, Isabella. Shit. I never should have let him come over. I knew what he wanted, and I... I never should have let him think that he could touch you. I should have stopped him. I should have just told him everything. Told him how you were different to me... told him how much I …"

"Told him how much you what?" she asked breathily.

I swallowed hard, drawing strength from the honesty in her face. She wanted to know. She deserved to know.

"How much I … I love you."

She gasped, her hands covered her mouth in shock, eyes wide and bright. We stared at each other for what must have been full minute, my recent admission hanging heavy in the air between us.

"You..." she whispered. "You _love _me?" She said it like she couldn't believe that it was true. Hell, I could barely believe it, and I had just said it. Actually, I didn't even realize it myself until the words came out of my mouth. I loved Isabella. I loved her. I was in love with her. I grabbed her hands again and squeezed them affectionately, stroking the soft skin with my thumbs.

"I do. I love you, Isabella Swan. I know that we haven't known each other for very long, but I love you more than anything in the world."

"Oh Master," she sighed. "I... I love you too." She smiled at me, her eyes filling with tears, but happy tears. I thought my heart would explode. I never thought I could ever feel like this, commit myself to one person so fully, so completely, but I think I fell in love with her the minute she first walked through my door.

I lifted myself up on my knees and took her face in my hands, and I kissed her. Softly at first, gently, but then quickly growing into the passion that was always between us. After a few minutes, I pulled away, both of us breathless. I still had more to say.

"I need to ask you something, Isabella. Beg you, really."

She looked at me strangely.

"I need to beg you to forgive me, for everything. I'm so sorry. Please tell me you'll forgive me and give me another chance. Please let me make it up to you. Please. I can't promise that I'll never screw up again, because I'm sure I will, but I promise that I'll try. Just... please..."

"Master, of course... There's nothing to forgive. You are everything to me."

"Is that a yes, yes that you forgive me?" I said, hopefully. "I have to hear the word, Isabella, please say yes. Please..."

"Yes," she said, interrupting me. "Yes, yes, yes."

I was ecstatic, overwhelmed, completely consumed by the generosity and the love... fuck, the _love_... that this woman had for me. I knew I didn't deserve it, didn't deserve her, but I was sure as hell going to try. I buried my face in her lap again, holding her hands in mine, kissing them over and over with grateful joy.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you... Oh God, thank you." I muttered repeatedly. We sat like that, unmoving, for several minutes. exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the past 24 hours and the powerful revelations of the past hour. It was dizzying. I realized I still had one more thing to talk to her about, so I lifted my head and looked into her deep brown eyes, one more time.

"There's just one more thing ."

"Yes, Master? Anything. anything at all."

"Actually, that's it exactly." She looked at me again, completely clueless to where I was going.

"Last night, I was checking on you, to make sure... to make sure that you were okay." I swallowed hard, not wanting to relive that horrible night, that horrible feeling of guilt and regret. "And you were dreaming, talking in your sleep again."

She started to look panicked, and I quickly reassured her.

"No, it wasn't like the last time. No nightmares. Just the opposite, exactly." I smiled. "You... you said my name, Isabella. My real name, not 'Master.'" I paused to try to figure out what I wanted to say. "You called me Edward."

Again, she started to open her mouth to object, to apologize for using my name so disrespectfully, but I stopped her.

"You called me Edward, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. I loved it. I wanted to hear you say it again and again. And... I'd like to try that, I think. I still want to be your Master, I mean, that's something we both obviously need and enjoy. But... I want to be your Edward too." She blinked at me a couple of times. "Would you like that Isabella? Would you like to call me Edward?"

She blushed, quick and hard, a bright fiery red, and she looked down at her lap, picking at her fingernails nervously.

"I couldn't Master... I just couldn't... It just wouldn't be right... it just -"

"Isabella," I ordered softly. "Look at me."

She looked up at met my eyes, her expression immediately softening

"Say my name, Isabella. Please. Call me Edward. Let me hear you say it," I whispered. "_Please_. I need to hear you say it."

She was still bright red, embarrassed and blushing profusely, but her chest was heaving and her heart was pounding. She wanted it. She wanted _me_. She took a deep breath.

"Edward," she whispered softly.

"Fuck, baby," I moaned. "Say it again," I begged, my heart pounding.

"Edward," she said, a little louder this time.

"Again," I begged. I would never, ever get enough of hearing it.

"Edward," she replied, breathily and sweet. It was starting to turn her on. I don't know if it was just the release of finally saying it, or my reaction to her saying it, or both, but I didn't fucking care. I wanted it on a loop, repeating over and over in my head.

"_Again_," I ordered. I fucking _needed _it now. It was like a drug to me.

"Oh, God... Edward..." This time, she moaned it, and I fucking snapped. I grabbed her face in my hands and pulled her to me, hard, crushing my lips against hers, my tongue immediately in her mouth, tasting her, warm and sweet.

I finally pulled away, to breathe, and to look at her beautiful face, her mouth, which was already pink and swollen from my rough kisses.

"Thank you," I whispered gratefully. Kissing her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her chin. "I want to make it all up to you, baby. What can I do? Please tell me. Anything you want, anything. I'll give you anything..."

She blushed again and smiled mischievously.

"Anything?" She asked with a wicked smile. "Can I tie you up?"

I stroked her soft face, her full plump lips.

"Is that what you want, baby?" I asked in all seriousness. "If that's what you want, we can do it. Anything. Whatever you want. I just want to make you happy."

Her smile disappeared, and she grabbed my face in her hands.

"No, Edward, it was just a joke. A bad joke at that. I make bad jokes when I'm nervous." She sighed. "I don't need anything, really. I just... I just need you."

"You have me, baby. I'm all yours."

She sat back in the love seat and smiled, and she unwrapped the blanket that I had put around her, letting it fall completely open at her sides. She was gloriously naked, except for those beautiful stockings and shoes, and the lust for her that I had been repressing all day came crashing back to me. I was completely overwhelmed and absolutely obsessed with her.

Then, she slowly opened her legs to me, inviting me in, showing me what was mine.

I remembered the promise that I had made to her earlier on the phone. That I was going to make her come until she begged me to stop.

"Oh fuck, baby," I moaned, my eyes glued to her beautiful, bare pussy. "You are so perfectly beautiful." I lifted my eyes and met her gaze, and I whispered a soft promise. "I'm going to make you scream..."

I slipped my hands behind her knees and pulled her towards me, hard, dragging her to the edge of the seat. She gasped in surprise, then moaned softly in anticipation of what I was about to do.

I lifted her legs until her shoes were planted on the seat, on either side of her, and spread her open a bit more, Now, she was perfect. The beautiful pussy of hers, wide and wet and pink and all mine. I leaned in closer and inhaled deeply.

"God, you smell good," I moaned.

I touched just my fingertip to her swollen clit, and she nearly jumped off the seat. I circled it a few times, then pushed inside her, reveling in her warmth, her softness, her wetness, knowing now that it was all for me. She pushed her hips towards me, silently begging for more.

"You like that pretty girl? Hmm?" I asked softly, slowly moving my finger in and out of her, mesmerized by her body's instant reaction to me, the shiny slickness covering my skin. I lowered my face between her thighs, and right before my tongue touched her sensitive skin, I repeated my promise to her.

"I want you to come tonight, Isabella. Whenever you want, and as many times as you want. And I want to hear you. I want you to say my name when you come."

She whimpered and nodded, and when I buried my face between her legs, she screamed my name. She called me Edward.

* * *

><p>"<em>Edward<em>! Oh God, Edward... Jesus... I can't... oh _fuck_... please... please... I can't..." she mumbled... sweaty, exhausted, and finally begging me to stop.

I had lost count, but I think that was number six. Each one better than the one before.

"Are you sure, my love?" I said with a flick of my tongue on her sensitive, swollen clit. She screamed and flinched away from me.

"Oh God, yes, yes, yes... please Edward... please... no more... no more... I can't..."

I grinned and wiped her wetness off of my face with the back of my sleeve. I kissed her stomach, then between her breasts, then her neck. I climbed up onto the seat next to her, and I pulled her onto my lap. I was fucking hard as a rock, but tonight was all about her, and if I had to wait to jack off in the bathroom after she finally fell asleep, so be it.

She was shivering slightly, so I wrapped her back up in the blanket, holding her tightly in my arms, pressing soft kisses onto the top of her head.

"My pretty, pretty girl. My lovely Isabella..." I cooed in her ear.

She stirred slightly in my lap and mumbled something, but I couldn't understand her. I think she was half asleep already.

"What was that, my love? Isabella?"

"Bella," she whispered, her eyes still shut, her cheeks still pink.

I turned slightly so that I could see her face.

"What, baby?"

"_Bella_," she said softly. "I want you to call me _Bella_. I mean, if I'm going to call you Edward..."

I turned her completely in my lap so that I could see her better. Why had this never occurred to me before?

"_Bella_? Your name is _Bella_?" I asked incredulously. She blinked a few times, and finally opened her eyes to look at me, slightly concerned, as always, that she had said or done something wrong.

"Yes, why?" she asked nervously. But I smiled, stroking her cheek reassuringly with my thumb.

"You know what Bella means in Italian, don't you, sweet one?" She was smiling with me now, my grin infectious.

"No, what?" Her eyes were wide and innocent, curious.

"Oh baby," I said, holding her face gently in my hands, stroking her soft, warm skin. She was mine, she was truly mine. I smiled at her, pouring all of the love in the world into that one smile. "It means... beautiful."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Wow. So much to say. **

**First, I'd like to say that _I didn't plan this_, but this is a natural place to end this story (and honestly, where I always planned to end it, just thought it would be a few more chapters down the line). With that said, I'm _still _going to post chapters, pretty much on the same schedule as before (once a month or so), but it will just be scenes, situations that they find themselves in. Maybe a prequel back to before she met Edward, her back story. So I know that's very contradictory, but I felt the need to say it before this story jumped the shark. Nothing really changes. You'll still get chapters. :) Thank you to _everyone _reading this story. I can't possibly say that any other way.**

**Next, thank you to _everyone _who voted for "Beautiful" for "Best Lemon" in The Wordsmith Awards. It won, and I am absolutely floored! Speechless, which is hard to do, for me. :)**

**Another story of mine, a oneshot, "The Mechanic," was featured as "Single Serving of the Week" on The Lemonade Stand's Lemon Drops! It has been quite a week for me! Check it out on my profile if you haven't read it yet. (PS - Guess who "the mechanic" is?).**

**Thank you to everyone who offered up questions and honest opinions about what Edward did in chapter 6. It helped me to rethink the entire chapter, and what his motivations were, and I _hope _I made up for it in this chapter. I know that, in _this _chapter, he was still acting like an ass, and Jasper was acting like an ass, but please remember that it's just a story, it's fiction. People aren't perfect. People make mistakes. People act like asses. In real life _and _in fiction. I love the emotional responses, however, because it means that you care. You wouldn't have been so pissed at Edward _and _at me if you weren't, right? :) I continue to welcome all comments, all thoughts, all suggestions, all opinions. The instant communication with readers is what makes fan fiction such an amazing genre and a great place to learn to write, and I wouldn't change a thing.**

**Thank you to the ladies on the Kinkward Lovers Facebook page (and all the other pages I've joined because of y'all!) for their infinite support of me and my stories. I heart every single one of you. And Domie, if you don't stop posting pictures of Rob at Cannes, I will never get anything done!**

**Thank you to MaBarberElla, my Carlisle-crazed friend, who hasn't read this chapter yet, and doesn't even know that she inspired that entire scene in the dining room. I hope it makes her scream. ;)**

**And, of course, last but not least, thank you to my beta and RL BFF, LibbyLou862 for her questions, her corrections, her laughter, her plot suggestions, and her encouragement. Oh! And her music! Have you heard her original song "Beautiful"? You can search for it on youtube under Dazzledin2008. Libby, I really couldn't do any of this without you. :)**

**Oops! One last thing! I wrote a _new _story, a oneshot, for "Fandom for No Kid Hungry" (** fandomcause(dot)info/**). It's kind of different, a Jane Austen meets Twilight kinda thing. If you go to their website and donate a minimum of $10, you get access to the entire compilation, all of the stories by a bunch of amazing authors. YOU MUST SEND IN YOUR DONATION RECEIPT BY JUNE 1! I'll be able to post the story on my profile at the end of July, so you can read it there if you don't get the compilation. But please consider it.**

**Next up? Fluff. "Outtake" #1. Time to get back on the smut train. Ride with me?**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Content warning: As I said at the end of my last chapter, this is the smut train. If you want to get off (completely intentional pun), get off now. :)**

****(PS, because of the tease a couple of chapters ago, my chapter numbering is off by one, so starting with this chapter, we're catching up. So, in essence, there was never an 8. There was a 7, then a 9. Make sense?)****

****Disclaimer: All things "Twilight" belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. :)****

* * *

><p><strong>Beautiful chapter 9 - Outtake (or should I say <strong>_**Post-take)**_** #1 - The Business Trip, Part I**

"Boston? For a _week_? _Really_?"

I squealed with excitement and ran across the room, launching myself up in the air and wrapping my arms and legs around Edward's tall, strong body. He took a couple of steps back when I connected with him, steadying himself, but he easily supported my light frame against his. He held me tightly, his hands under my thighs, and buried his mouth in my hair, hungrily kissing my neck and licking my ear.

"If I knew that a trip to Massachusetts would get you this excited," he mumbled, "I would have taken you weeks ago."

I threw my head back and laughed.

Several weeks had passed since the night he stood up for me in front of his old mentor, Jasper. So much had happened that night. He told me that he loved me. He told me that he wanted to just be "Bella and Edward." He let his guard down and let me into his life. That entire weekend was a confusing emotional rollercoaster, but our relationship was stronger because of it.

It took awhile for us to figure out how to balance our lives as lovers with our lives as a Dominant and submissive couple, but we eventually found a way that worked for us. We didn't stick to a set schedule, unless that was part of the game. We would wait until we needed it, and we would let the other know through subtle - and sometimes, not-so-subtle - changes in tone, behavior, words, and actions.

It still amazed me how different he was when he became my Dominant. It was like he was a completely different person, but still Edward, my Edward. He would call me "_Isabella_," or give me a look - a cocked eyebrow, a sexy smirk - and I would know how he wanted me. And I would give myself to him, immediately and completely.

When I needed him in that way, it was a much simpler proposition for me. I would just drop to my knees in front of him, making sure that I was perfectly presented to him in the way that he had taught me. Concentrating on all the little details that told him that I remembered his words... the spread of my knees, the tilt of my head, the straightness of my spine. I wanted to please him so desperately, and when he walked that slow circle around my submissive form, muttering softly about how perfect I was, it made me feel complete.

I gave him a quick, wet kiss and hopped down from his body, and I ran to the huge walk-in closet in our bedroom and flung open the double doors.

"What should I pack?" I asked absently. I was already mentally cataloguing my entire wardrobe, pairing different pieces together to form a variety of outfits. "Do I need to bring dressy? Or casual? Or maybe a combination of - "

"_Isabella_," Edward interrupted, and I froze, a chill running quickly throughout my body. I knew that voice. I knew exactly what he looked like at that moment even though my back was to him. And I knew what he wanted. He _needed _me.

I dropped to my knees in the closet, right where I was standing, and I lowered my gaze to the floor.

"Sir?" I whispered, waiting for him to tell me what he wanted from me, how I could please him.

"Stand up please," he said, his voice smooth, but commanding. God, I loved that sound. He could do so much to me with just his voice, and he knew it. I stood, as he asked, and I could feel him behind me, hear him breathing. He was making me wait, purposefully. He always made me wait. I knew that he knew exactly what he was doing, what he had planned, and the anticipation of his actions affected my physical body almost as much as his touch.

Then, I felt his hand on my neck, pulling my hair to one side, and I gasped. I desperately needed him to touch me, anywhere, in any way that he wanted, but I kept myself still.

I could feel his breath, warm air moving seductively across my neck. Then, the softness of his lips. The wetness of his tongue.

"Here's what you need to pack, Isabella," he murmured against my skin. "Three blouses that button up the front. Three skirts. Three bras. Three sets of stockings. Three pairs of heels."

Three outfits? Only three? We were going to be there an entire week. I didn't understand yet, but I knew that he had a plan and that he would give me the details when he was ready.

He took a deep breath and blew it softly across my bare shoulder.

"One set, my sweet, is for the plane ride to Boston. You can leave that out on the bed for the morning. Don't pack it." It was an order, a demand, and I knew better than to question him, unless he gave me express permission. "One set is for the return trip." A soft kiss across the back of my neck and another slowly released, but contented, sigh. "The third is for a special night that I have planned while we're there."

I waited, his slow, steady breathing hypnotizing me. I knew there was more.

"Other than that," he said slowly, a smile in his voice, "you will not be allowed any clothing."

_Oh God._

* * *

><p>"You are just about perfect, Isabella."<p>

We were packed and ready to go, getting ready to leave for the airport, when he stopped me in the foyer with that curious statement. Not perfect? What was I doing wrong? Whatever it was, I wanted to fix it as soon as possible. For him.

"Sir?" I asked, my panic starting to mount.

"Come here," he said roughly, pointing to the small table in the entranceway, the one just beneath a large, gilded mirror.

I walked over to him and waited. It was not my place to question him in any way unless he asked for my opinion.

"Turn around and look at yourself in the mirror."

I turned and looked at my reflection, hoping that I would understand, that I would somehow know what he wanted me to know. I was dressed in the outfit he had chosen... a dark blue fitted silk blouse, a flared taupe skirt, lace-topped taupe stockings, and taupe heels. I looked as I always looked when I was under his control - desperate to please and desperate to come. But it was _him_, standing behind me, that drew my attention. The hungry, almost feral expression on his face that made my knees weak and my thighs wet. He seemed to be at the very edge of his control, holding on tightly, and it surprised me that he was already so far gone. I had some catching up to do, and I had a sinking, delicious feeling that he had plans to get me there during the flight. In an airplane full of people.

My mind started to wander to all the things he would do to me, how he would push me right to the edge and pull me back, over and over again, until he knew that I couldn't take any more. Would he rent a car? Would he fuck me as soon as we got in it? Would we even make it to the car, or would he pull me into the men's room and fuck me in a generic stall? Or would he hire a driver, maybe a limo? Oh hell, yes. I wanted him to fuck me in the back of a moving limousine.

"Isabella," he snapped.

Damn. I lost my concentration again, and he knew it. I pulled myself into the present, determined to be better for him, but still not knowing what he wanted me to know.

"Are you with me now, little girl?" he asked with an edge to his voice.

"Yes, Sir," I apologized. "I'm so sorry, Master. I'm yours, completely yours, for whatever you desire."

His eyes burned at my statement, and I could see the taut muscles in his neck and jaw, flexing and releasing, his control, tenuous at best. I loved it when he was like this, when I _made _him like this. When I made him lose control.

"Very good, love," he said with a contented sigh, a single fingertip whispering across my shoulder, my neck, my jaw. "Bend down for me, please, Isabella." He pressed his palm very gently on the middle of my back until my chest was touching the foyer table. He lifted my skirt until it was at my waist, stroking and squeezing my bare ass. Panties weren't allowed on this trip, not even when I was wearing one of my three designated outfits.

His hand slipped between my legs, and he started rubbing slow circles around my clit. I was so wet already and wanted to beg him to fuck me, right then, but I knew that he wouldn't. That it wasn't his plan. His other hand slid behind my neck, his fingers weaving through my hair. He grabbed a handful, slowly increasing the tension, ensuring that I would feel it and know that he owned me. He pulled my head back, and I felt his lips again at my ear as he leaned over me.

"Look at yourself, Isabella," he growled. "Look what I do to you."

I opened my eyes, facing our reflections in the mirror. I hadn't even realized that I had closed them.

We were beautiful. Together, we were perfect, hungry, desperate. His finger hit a particularly sensitive spot, and I groaned and let my eyes close again, just to feel.

"I said _open_," he said sharply with a tug to my hair, and I forced my eyes back to the image in the mirror. The pain in my scalp was sharp and sweet, and it reminded me where I was and who I needed to be for him.

He removed his hands from me and reached into his pocket. His eyes were locked on mine in the mirror, and I dared not look away to see what he had, or what he was doing.

My heart was pounding, my breathing rapid, and all of my senses were incredibly sensitive, waiting to see or hear or feel some clue of what he was going to do.

The soft click made me jump, but I immediately knew what it was. He had just flipped open the cap of a bottle of lube, and as cool, slick drops hit my skin, I pushed my body back towards him, unable to control myself any longer.

"Master... _please_," I begged, but I knew it would not be that easy. It never was.

He slid his hand from my hair, quickly down my back, and pressed me gently into the table.

"Still yourself, Isabella," he said firmly, and he waited, not moving, until I calmed myself.

The lube was thick between my legs, and I could feel a tiny trickle running down the back of my thigh. He must have noticed it as well, and he slid his finger underneath it, running slowly upwards until his wet finger was back between my legs. He circled my back entrance once, slowly, giving me notice of what his intentions were, and then he slid his long, slick finger inside me.

It was decadent and forbidden, and I never grew tired of the feeling. It felt new every single time he did it, and I moaned loudly, unable to stop myself.

I watched him in the mirror as he stretched me, the corners of his mouth turning up just slightly into a beautiful, evil grin.

Then, he removed his finger and quickly slipped something inside me, something that wasn't him, and I knew it would be there for the remainder of our travel.

He grabbed my hair again and pulled me back up to a standing position, smoothing my skirt down into place.

"Now, my love," he whispered, "_now_ you're perfect."

* * *

><p>The seats in first class were wide and roomy, made of soft, creamy leather. Edward had graciously given me the window seat after asking for my preference. He was so thoughtful and caring of my desires, even when he was dominating me. It was very sweet.<p>

I should have been comfortable and relaxed, but I couldn't concentrate on anything other than the object he had placed inside of me, wondering what he had planned for us. I knew that he would scold me for losing focus, but that was exactly his intention, teasing me mercilessly, keeping me off balance and on edge. He had lifted the arm rest between us, and even though we had our seat belts securely fastened, I was still able to snuggle into his side.

"Is there anything I can get you before takeoff?" the flight attendant asked, thick with invitation, smiling at Edward and leaning over unnecessarily.

She was young and attractive, and although we were obviously a couple, she was blatantly flirting with him. It didn't seem to matter to her that I was sitting right next to him, watching her audacity with raised eyebrows. He was holding my hand, and he lifted it to his mouth and gently kissed my knuckles while she waited for an answer, and her frozen smile dropped just enough for me to notice.

"Actually, yes," he said, looking at me while he spoke. "My beautiful girlfriend here," he said, smiling, and kissed my hand again, "is a little chilly and would like for you to bring her a blanket." I broke out in a huge grin, loving the way he phrased it, not as a request from him, but from me. That _had _to piss her off.

"Of course, Sir," she replied tersely, suddenly all business, but still speaking just to him. "And something to drink?"

I wondered, not for the first time, if it did anything for him when other women called him "Sir." I would have to remember to ask him that one day.

He turned to me, deferring to me, again.

"My love?" he asked sweetly, really pouring it on thick for her. "What would you like? Champagne?"

"If that's what you're having," I whispered back seductively, wanting to defer to him, to let him continue to make all decisions for us, but to maintain an acceptable public facade.

"Champagne it is," he said to the attendant. "And strawberries, if you have them."

She nodded sharply and ran off to get our drinks.

He leaned over and whispered in my ear, his hand on my stocking-covered thigh.

"I love you, Bella."

I sighed. So we were Edward and Bella again, at least for the moment. His mouth moved to my neck, and I felt his soft, warm lips on my skin. I squirmed in my seat, needing him so desperately already.

"I love you too, Edward," I moaned softly.

He smiled and kissed me, quite innocently, until I leaned into him, opening my mouth, and teased him with my tongue. We got carried away very quickly, and were unfortunately interrupted by the flight attendant standing at Edward's side, loudly clearing her throat.

He turned to her after a moment, and she flipped on that high-wattage smile from earlier. She was carrying a tray in one hand for the two crystal flutes of champagne and a small dish of the most beautiful, red strawberries I had ever seen. In her other hand was the blanket Edward had requested for me.

"Ma'am," she said coolly as she handled me the folded, gray blanket. I grabbed it from her with a nod, no response. She started to hand Edward one of the glasses of champagne, but we had nowhere to put them, so he lowered the tray table in front of him. He took the glass from her and handed it to me with another quick, but soft kiss, then grabbed the other glass and the dish of fruit from her, placing them on the table.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked him, again, completely ignoring me.

He looked at me, and I smiled at him for playing the game for me so perfectly, and I shook my head.

"No, thanks," he said to her, and turned back to me, effectively dismissing her. The fake smile completely disappeared, and she left in a huff.

The champagne was cold and crisp and delicious, and half of my glass was gone before I knew it.

"Strawberry?" he asked, grabbing a large berry from the bowl and holding it up to me. I nodded quickly, wanting whatever it was he wanted to do with that piece of fruit. He brought it just short of my mouth and I parted my lips, waiting. He grinned, just slightly, the corner of his mouth turning up, that smirk that set my private parts on fire, and he touch the end of the berry to my lips, running it softly back and forth across my mouth.

Jesus, it was just fruit, but he had me so wound up from the minute I got out of bed that morning. I slipped my tongue out and touched the strawberry, keeping my eyes on his, and he groaned a little. God, I loved that I could do that to him.

"Bite," he whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. He pushed the berry into my mouth, and I took half of it in my teeth, the juice coating my lips and running out of the corner of my mouth. He reached up with one finger and slowly swiped it across my chin, then lifted his wet finger to my mouth. I quickly and eagerly sucked it into my mouth, running my tongue down and around. I gladly fellated his finger, anxiously awaiting the moment when he would let me have the real thing.

"Fuck, Bella," he growled softly, pulling his finger out of my mouth and grabbing the back of my head. He kissed me hard and deep, and I briefly forgot where I was and started to climb into his lap.

"_Ahem_." Loud throat clearing by the attendant, who was once again standing directly next to Edward. He waited a beat or two to acknowledge her, and I loved him for that, for giving _me _the attention that she so obviously wanted. He was a little irritated that we had been interrupted, and in that second that it took for him to turn from me and look at her, his expression had completely morphed into one that I knew and craved - Dominant Edward. He looked at her with a cocked eyebrow, not speaking, and waited to see what she had to say.

"I'm sorry to bother y-," she started sarcastically, then suddenly stopped when she saw his expression. "I'm sorry, S-Sir," she stuttered nervously. "I didn't mean to interrupt." Wow. How did he _do _that? I didn't think that every woman in the world would be susceptible to his unique charms, but apparently he had more power than I thought. I had seen him do this more than once, turn a completely belligerent and rude female, as well as a couple of men, into a subservient puddle. It thrilled me so much more knowing that he was mine, and that he wanted _me_, not any of them.

He seemed somewhat satisfied with her change in demeanor, and waved a hand at her, indicating that she should continue. She cleared her throat again.

"Again, I apologize, Sir, but we're preparing for take off, so I'll need to collect the glasses and the dish." She was nervous about upsetting him, which of course, he loved. "But once we reach cruising altitude, I'll bring you both a fresh glass. And some fresh berries, of course!" she added, a little too enthusiastically. He nodded, and she collected the glasses and the dish, and then secured his tray table.

She scurried away to the galley as we heard the engines firing up.

He still had the half-eaten berry in his hand, and he grinned devilishly as he held it up to me, like he had gotten away with something. I giggled and bit my bottom lip without thinking.

"_Isabella_, your lip." Just like that, he turned, and I immediately stopped, knowing what it did to him. He took a deep breath and brought the berry back to my mouth, running the bitten end across my lips, wetting them and teasing me. I opened my mouth and reached for the berry, but right before I caught it between my teeth, he pulled it away and popped it into his mouth, chewing and laughing. Then, he kissed me, both of us tasting like juicy strawberries.

* * *

><p>The flight wasn't that long, but the chill in the cabin and the droning of the engines put me quickly to sleep. Edward had covered us with the blanket when I started to doze, and I was nestled comfortably into his chest, his arm wrapped tightly around me.<p>

I woke up gradually, both my consciousness and a realization of where I was slowly returning. My eyes were still closed when I felt his hand on my thigh under the blanket. Stroking my soft, warm skin. Travelling slowly beneath my skirt.

I turned to look at him, and there was a fire in his eyes, a look that said, _I want you. Don't tell me no_. Of course, I would never do that, and I couldn't imagine any situation in which I would ever deny him.

My legs were slightly open, as he had taught me, and I had apparently kept them that way even in my sleep. Or at least, I assumed I had. He might have pulled on my knee while I was napping.

When he reached my upper, inner thigh, I moaned softly, and he chuckled, then whispered in my ear.

"Quiet yourself, Isabella. You don't want anyone to know what we're doing, do you?"

Oh God.

"I wonder if they know what I did to you this morning, what's inside you right now."

Fuck. He was killing me. He knew exactly what this did to me. His fingers were now touching my soft, bare, private skin, and it was so difficult to hold it in, not make any noise. He kissed my ear, my neck... his tongue sneaking out for a taste.

"Mmm, your skin is so sweet," he teased, slipping a finger easily inside me, twisting and pulling it agonizingly slowly. "But not as sweet as this." He pulled his finger from me and held it up, slick and shiny, covered in my arousal. Then, he brought it to his mouth, licking and sucking the wetness from it while I watched.

"Jesus, Isabella, you taste so fucking good," he said with a soft growl. "When I get you to that hotel, I want you naked on the bed, spread wide for me, and I'm going to eat that fucking pussy of yours until you scream." And before I could even react to his illicit words, he grabbed my head and crushed his lips to mine, kissing me hard and deep and long, my taste still thick on his tongue.

After a few minutes, he pulled back to look at me, and I felt his hand beneath my skirt again, the blanket covering our activity.

"_Wider_," he ordered, tapping his hand on the inside of my knee. I opened my legs as much as could while keeping them covered with the blanket.

"Good girl," he whispered, his hand sliding quickly back between my legs. I was wearing no underwear so there was nothing to stop him, and his fingers were brushing against my clit before I knew it. I lifted my hips to him instinctively, and he quickly reacted, moving his hand just enough to press me back into the seat.

"Hold still, little girl. _Focus_," he ordered, and slipped his hand back between my legs. He slipped a finger inside of me, fucking me with it slowly, his thumb slowly circling my swollen and aching clit.

Fuck, I would never be able to withstand this, so much sensory input, with what he did to me this morning. I could still feel it inside me, and that, combined with what he was doing to me at the moment, well, I didn't think I would last. I hoped that was his intention, because I would hate to disappoint him.

I concentrated on keeping myself still and quiet, but I could feel my orgasm quickly building.

"Master, _please_," I begged in a quiet whisper.

"Isabella!" he said with mock surprise. a smirk on that beautiful mouth. "Are you going to come right here on this airplane? In front of all of these people?" His fingers increased their pace and pressure, and I was instantly that much closer to coming, barely holding on. His words incited me, and he knew it. "You know, that flight attendant could be back at any minute. Do you _want _her to watch you?" He turned his head to the aisle and leaned over, pretending to look for her. "I can call her over. Is that what you want, my lovely, dirty girl?"

"No!" I exclaimed immediately, a little too loud. "Master, _please_," I whispered, "I need to come, Please, _please_, I'll do anything, please," I begged.

"Oh, I know you'll do anything, Isabella." he said with a grin. "You are fucking _mine_. I _own _you, and I've got some plans for you, little girl."

His finger inside me curled up and pressed against me, rubbing back and forth, as his thumb pressed directly on my clit, sliding it back and forth, pushing me dangerously close to the edge. He leaned into me, his mouth on my ear.

"Come for me, beautiful," he whispered.

Before I had met Edward, I imagined what it would be like to have a Dominant control my orgasms, from all of my reading and research. Ordering me not to come when he was pushing me. How the hell would I hold off? I had tried to control myself when I was alone in my bedroom, vibrator in hand, but when that feeling started rolling through me, there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was never able to do it, which always made me nervous that I would never be able to please my Master. And since I wasn't able to do that, how, also, would I be able to come on command when he finally gave me permission? I was never able to do that either... tell myself, "come now" and force the orgasm to happen.

But I quickly learned the difference after only a short time with Edward. The difference was _him_. His manner, his attitude, his words, his voice. Everything about him made me want to please him, and I was quickly able to give him what he wanted from me.

And right now, he wanted me to come in an airplane full of people.

So I did.

I lifted my hips to his hand, unable to control that need, but I kept myself quiet, except for some heavy-panting/breath-holding combinations.

He watched me as the wave erupted throughout my body, tingling and throbbing in my fingers and my toes, covering every single inch of my over-heated flesh.

"Beautiful," he whispered soothingly in my ear, his fingers now stroking the skin of my thigh. He kissed my neck, my jaw, my chin, until his warm, soft lips finally reached my own, his mouth pressing gently against me softly.

* * *

><p>We landed shortly thereafter, but thankfully, just enough time for me to get control of my limbs again. I was weak as a kitten after that orgasm, and I never would have made it out of the plane.<p>

We walked down the aisle of the plane, slowly waiting our turn to exit, and I rubbed my legs together, still aroused, feeling the wetness on my thighs. Edward was standing directly behind me and knew exactly what I was doing. He wrapped one arm around my waist, pulling me back until I was pressed against his body, and brought his mouth to my ear again.

"Anxious already, my love?" he teased. "Didn't I just let you come?" He nipped at my ear, and the feeling instantly shot through me, that delicious mix of pain and pleasure that I had come to crave with him.

"I should warn you, baby" he whispered. "The next one is mine, and I'll want it soon."

Fuck. What the hell did that mean? Would he drag me into the men's room as I thought earlier? "Soon" could mean any number of things, and I knew he was just tormenting me, making me wait, making me wonder what he was planning.

We exited the airplane, walked through the Jetway, and into the airport, his hand securely wrapped around my own. We curiously skipped the baggage carousel and the car rental counter, and instead, we walked outside the building where the taxis and busses lined up. Immediately, a sleek black Town Car pulled up, right in front of us, and the driver, dressed in a black suit and white shirt, hopped out and walked quickly in front of us.

"Mr. Cullen, Sir," he said, seeming to know Edward.

"Paul," Edward nodded in acknowledgement. So it seemed they did know each other. Edward's regular driver in town?

Paul opened the back passenger door, and Edward gestured for me to enter first. He constantly amazed me with his connections, his planning, his forethought. His confidence was one of the sexiest things about him, knowing that he knew what he wanted it, and that he always made it happen. That he would always get his way.

I slid along the rich leather seats and started to buckle myself in. The back seat was roomier, much more space than a standard car. It must be specially made for this purpose, for transporting extremely wealthy men to wherever they wanted to go in complete comfort. Edward slipped in next to me, and Paul closed his door and climbed back into the driver's seat. He didn't ask Edward where he was going, didn't talk to us at all. He just started driving.

"Unbuckle your seatbelt and get on your knees on the seat, facing me," Edward said softly. It was clear that this was an order, not to be discussed, and that I should act immediately.

I turned to look at him, my head whipping to the front seat, to Paul. There was no divider, no privacy. He would be able to hear, and somewhat see, everything that I was about to do. That immediately mortified me and thrilled me, and when I looked back at Edward, his expression was determined and _not _pleased. I had lost my focus again, and I had hesitated.

"Sorry, Master," I mumbled, knowing that the driver could hear, wondering what he thought of our arrangement. I quickly removed my seat belt and climbed up on my knees, turning to face Edward.

"It's my turn now, Isabella," he said. He was turned on, I could tell. His jaw was tight, and the muscles there were tensing. "Come down here and show me what that pretty mouth of yours can do."

Shit. Why was this so much more difficult than what I did with Carlisle? He was pretty much a complete stranger when Edward was touching me in the movie room, and then, that next day in the dining room. Fuck, I was losing focus again. I needed to do what he requested, _when _he requested it, and not worry about anything else. I had to trust that he knew what he was doing and that he would take care of me.

I leaned over and opened the button on Edward's expensive trousers, then brought the zipper down swiftly, but carefully. I could immediately see his erection, stretching against the fabric of his boxers, and I knew he needed me. I ran my fingertips softly and slowly across the fabric, feeling the aching hardness beneath, and I was enthralled. It always amazed me that he could be this hard, this needy, and that it was because of me. That I was responsible. That I could make him this turned on. He was breathing hard, and I knew that he was affected by my touch. I could do this forever.

"_Now_, Isabella," he growled, and flinched his hips upward.

Damn it, I did it again. I always thought too much with Edward, and I knew he was being patient and gracious because I was new, but that wasn't going to last forever. I had to get my shit together and act when he demanded it. So, I pulled his boxers down as far as they would go, and his cock popped out, hard and throbbing and stretching towards his stomach. I wrapped my fingers around the bottom of it and pulled it back a little, then lowered my mouth onto him, just sucking the head between my lips to start. Slowly pulling it in and out of my mouth, using my tongue in slow circles, then slipping back and forth into his slit.

I could feel his fingers lacing through my hair, pulling just enough for me to feel his passion and his need for me, and I heard him moaning.

"God, yes, Isabella," he groaned. "Like that... just like that."

It was quiet in the car. Paul wasn't playing any music or anything, so the only thing we could hear was the wet sound of my mouth on Edward's dick and Edward's words and moans. I wondered what Paul thought of all of this. He _had _to be hearing this, knowing exactly what we were doing.

And then I wondered if it was turning him on too.

And fuck, did that make me hot.

I worked a little harder, both for Edward and my audience of one, and sucked more of Edward's hard cock into my mouth. A long, hard pull, and I was rewarded with a deep groan from my Master. I loved it when he let me know that I was doing it right, that I was pleasing him, because, after all, that was why I was here.

He gently pushed my head down, letting me know what he wanted, and I gladly gave it to him, taking his entire length into my mouth.

"Yes," he said softly, controlling my actions with his hands on my head, his fingers in my hair. "All the way down, Isabella. Take it all."

Well, there was no doubt now that Paul knew exactly what I was doing. I knew he could hear us, but I wondered if he could see anything in the rear-view mirror. Probably just Edward's face. I almost wished he could see me.

I tightened my lips around Edward's length and increased the pressure of my mouth on the upstroke, then swallowed him quickly on the way back down. Every few strokes, I would pause at the head of his cock and circle it with my tongue, teasing the ridge and the slit until I elicited a noise from my Master. It pleased me so much to hear him make those noises, to know know that I was pleasing him.

He started moving his hips with my strokes, meeting my mouth, and I knew that he was close, so I pulled my lips back a bit, and grazed my teeth along his skin, knowing how much he liked that.

"Oh fuck, baby, yes... that feels so good," he moaned loudly. "Do that again. Don't fucking stop."

So I didn't.

I gave him exactly what he wanted. More lips, more tongue, more teeth. Just _more_.

"Jesus, your mouth, Isabella," he panted. "Don't stop. Don't fucking stop. I'm going to come, baby."

His fingers tightened in my hair, pulling and pushing, and it felt amazing. I felt him starting to twitch in my mouth, and I knew he was close. Then, he stilled, just for a second or two, and then he started to come, hot and wet, pulsing down my throat.

"_Fuck_," he said, a little too loudly in the quiet car. "I'm coming, Isabella. Fuck, take it all... yes... such a good girl... my beautiful girl."

He was moaning and whispering sweet words to me as he finished, softly stroking my hair, no longer pulling and pushing, and when he was finally done, he pulled me up to him and looked deeply in my eyes. His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking my skin, softly, gently.

"That was fucking amazing, Isabella, thank you," he whispered, then pulled me to him, pressing his lips softly to mine. He kissed me sweetly, almost reverently, then pulled back just enough to whisper in my ear.

"I love you, Bella."

* * *

><p>The hotel was regal and sumptuous, the style evocative of both the old and the new. Edward checked in at the desk, and again, they seemed to know him, greeted him instantly by name, and handed him his keycards immediately, without the usual computer keyboard clicking and paperwork. He just walked up, said hello, and they handed him his cards.<p>

Power. Intelligence. Control. He was so fucking perfect.

We rode up the mirror-lined elevator in silence, but I could feel him looking at me. It was as if I could sense his growing need and desire for me, and my body was instantly responding. I wanted him to grab me, slam me up against the elevator wall, and push my skirt up, fucking me hard, right there, but he kept his distance.

The elevator finally stopped, and we walked down the end of the hall to the very last room. There weren't very many doors on this floor, which made me a little curious, but as soon as he opened the door, and I walked in, I knew why. It was an absolutely huge suite, and I realized that the entire floor must have been made of the same, maybe only eight or ten suites in all.

There was a foyer with a mirrored closet, a large, fully equipped kitchen, a comfortable sitting room with a huge flat screen television, and a full formal dining room. Off to the side was the door to the bedroom, which held a massive bed with rich dark wood furnishings. I knew of Edward's tastes for dark wood, and I had to wonder if they picked this furniture specifically with him in mind, or if this was just something that he had discovered.

And one bedroom? That was interesting, considering that I still slept in my bedroom at Edward's home while we were playing. I only slept in _his _bed when we had returned to just "Edward and Bella." It was a nice balance, and it worked for both of us.

I had assumed that we would be Master and submissive for this entire trip, but maybe he had other plans. Again, I couldn't second guess him. I had to trust in him and his choices.

I noticed that our luggage was already in the bedroom, stacked neatly to the side. I didn't see it at the airport, and it certainly wasn't in our car. Someone must have picked it up and brought it to the room. I just shook my head, again, just needing to trust in him and his mysterious ways.

"Something wrong, Isabella?" he asked coolly.

I turned to look at him, and he looked impatient, his eyebrow cocked, waiting on me.

"No, Sir," I replied immediately, my eyes to the ground. "Just curious how the luggage got here, that's all."

"Isabella, you know that I have my ways," he chuckled, and he was suddenly right behind me, whispering in my ear. "I'd like for you to do something for me, please, my lovely."

"Yes, Sir, of course," I said quickly, eager for anything he wanted. "Anything you want."

He smiled at me and reached for my hand.

"Come into the bathroom with me, please," he said, walking away from me, but holding my hand and pulling me behind him. He brought us into the oversized bathroom until we were facing the mirror. He grabbed a small hand towel from the rack, placing it on the counter, and turned back to me.

"Bend over please," he ordered. "Hands on the counter, legs apart."

Jesus, that tone of voice. I just loved it, and I ached for more. So, I did exactly as he requested, bending at the waist, and I waited for his next move.

"Fuck, you look unbelievable like this, baby," he said, his hand sliding up my leg, just above my stocking on bare skin, then stroking softly across my ass, pushing my skirt up to my waist. "Bent over, naked beneath your skirt. Wet. Waiting for me."

He brought both of his hands to my hips and held me firm, making slow circles on my skin, stroking and squeezing the flesh of my ass, his fingers dipping between to tease me with soft touches. I moaned softly and pushed back towards him, wanting him to grab me, claim me, fuck me. He touched the object that he had placed inside me that morning, pushing on it gently, moving it inside me, sending a jolt throughout my body.

I groaned loudly. I wanted to scream, but I held back, knowing there might be people on the other side of the wall.

"Oh, God, Master," I begged. "Please, _please_, more."

He must have grabbed the object then, because I could feel it inside me as he started to slowly fuck me with it, pulling and pushing and twisting it, and I moved with him, matching his rhythm.

Then, suddenly, it was gone. The feeling, the object, all of it.

I looked up at the mirror, watching as Edward wrapped the object in the small hand towel, throwing it in the sink. Then, he stood up and met my gaze.

"Take a quick shower, Isabella, then meet me in the sitting room," he directed. "No towel, no robe. Naked. On your knees, to the left of my chair."

Then, he walked out of the room without another word and closed the door behind him.

I quickly ran the water, stripped out of my clothing, and hopped into the shower. I let my mind wander as the soap and hot water cascaded off of my skin, thinking about what Edward might have planned for us, imagining a variety of scenarios. Of course, I lost focus, the water turning cold, and I had to rush to finish.

I dried myself quickly with the large, white towel and looked at myself in the mirror. My skin was flushed pink, and my eyes were wide and dark. I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth, biting softly, then realizing what I was doing, I immediately stopped myself, even though he wasn't here to see it. I brushed my hair back from my face and ran my hands down my naked body, trying to prepare myself mentally. I took a deep breath and released it, and then I walked into the room.

Edward was sitting in a large, overstuffed chair, his jacket and tie removed, his legs crossed. There was a beautiful cut crystal decanter on the table next to him, filled with a rich amber liquid - his specific brand of bourbon, I assumed - and he was already sipping out of a short, heavy bar glass. He seemed to be patiently waiting for me and watching me closely as I stood in the doorway between the two rooms.

He leveled his eyes at me, frowning just a bit, and I silently chided myself for taking too long. I wondered if I would ever be able to just act immediately when he asked, without over-thinking, without debating.

I walked quickly to his side, kneeling at the left side of his chair, sitting on my heels. I brought my eyes to the floor, my hands clasped behind my back. My back was straight, my knees open. I was hoping that I remembered everything that he had taught me, and that I was doing it all to his satisfaction. I really wanted to make him happy.

But, he didn't react at _all _to my presence, to my kneeling at his feet.

He just sat there, playing with his iPhone, checking and sending emails, I guessed. He worked constantly, early in the morning and sometimes late into the night after I had gone to sleep. But, somehow, he always found time for me. Not only in the whiteroom, but also just... couple time, time for us to get to know each other as people. Our likes, our dislikes. We took lots of walks on his grounds, we watched movies in his theater room, we ate in expensive restaurants. He even took me out dancing a couple of times, to a really exclusive nightclub. He really was terribly attentive and sweet.

Fuck, _focus_, Isabella. That _had _to be what he was doing, I thought. Somehow, he knew. _Knew _that I was not where I needed to be mentally, and he was giving me time.

I took a deep breath and started to concentrate on my body, on making sure that everything about my presentation was perfect. I started to empty my mind, clearing it of everything except what was happening at that exact moment... the feel of the carpet on my knees, the coolness of the air on my bare skin, the soft hum of the air conditioner, the sound of the ice in my Master's drink, the pleasant smell of the lavender candle burning in the bathroom.

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly... very, very slowly. I settled into my position, thinking only about pleasing my Master and how I could be better for him. I straightened my back a little more, lengthened my neck, lifted my chest. My breathing was soft and slow and steady.

Time went by. I wasn't sure how much, but it didn't matter to me if it was an hour or a day. I was only there in the moment at my Master's desire, and his desire was for me to kneel patiently at his side, waiting for his need. There was no place I would rather be than serving him.

Eventually, he stood from the chair, straightening his slacks as he reached his full height. He placed his phone and his glass on the table next to him, and he turned to me, not yet speaking. He started to walk around me, very slowly... to my side, around my back, until finally stopping, directly behind me.

I took another deep breath and released it slowly, concentrating on relaxing the parts of my body that had tensed up, perfecting my positioning, thinking only of him... emptying my mind of anything that wasn't my Master.

I could hear him, feel him. He had started to walk again... around to my side, then slowly, finally, until he was again standing in front of me. All I could see of him was his shoes, the bottom of his slacks. I noticed that he was standing with his feet shoulder width apart, and I absently wondered if he ever stood any other way.

_Empty_, Isabella, _empty_.

I finally heard him - a chuckle, a soft sigh.

"You are perfect, Isabella," he said softly, stressing each word. "Absolutely perfect."

I wanted to scream and shout and jump into his arms, wrapping my body around his, hugging and kissing him until he begged me to stop. I was so happy when he was pleased with me, and when he called me "perfect," it was the most amazing sense of accomplishment, joy, and satisfaction.

I felt his hand on the top of my head, stroking my hair, my cheek. Then, his finger slipped beneath my chin, lifting my face to his. I kept my eyes down as much as I could, staring at his slacks, his thighs, his hips, his waist... his cock, pressing against the fabric between his legs.

"Look at me, sweet girl," he said.

I raised my eyes to his, and my breath stuttered for a moment. Jesus, he was beautiful,,, _achingly _handsome. I was so hungry for him that I wanted to lick my lips or bite my bottom lip, but I resisted.

"You are _perfect_, my love," he said again with a small smile, his eyes dark and heavy with lust. He cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter.

"This is how I would like to see you, Isabella, every day when I get back to the hotel. I have several meetings each day, and I would like to be greeted with a fresh glass of bourbon and my submissive on her knees."

He held my chin in his hands, firmly but gently, and I knew that he was serious, that whatever he was telling me, that I should pay strict attention.

"Do you understand, Isabella?" he asked. His voice was deep and rough, but so compelling. He was slowly driving me insane with his mastery of his art.

"Yes, Sir," I said softly, my voice soft and desperate. "I understand."

He watched me for a moment or two, then rubbed his thumb across my bottom lip, slowly, almost absently, before lifting his hand to my side.

"Stand, please, Isabella," he said. "Give me your hand."

I put my hand in his, and he helped me to my feet. Once I regained my balance, he lifted my hand to his lips and brushed his mouth across my knuckles, so sweet and gentle.

"Up on the table, please," he ordered.

There was a small, round table just behind us, in front of a large floor-to-ceiling window, a spectacular view that I had noticed when we walked in. Night had fallen, and the lights in the room had turned the window into a giant mirror. I looked at our reflection, just for a moment, and my heart thudded in my chest.

I climbed up on the table, my legs hanging over the edge, and I waited for further instruction.

"Lay back, Isabella," he said. "All the way down. Flat on the table."

I leaned back until I felt the cool wood against my skin, staring up at the ceiling, so anxious for whatever he had planned.

"Lift your legs, pretty girl. Up on the table, feet at your hips."

God, his voice. It was deep and rich and commanding, and it increased the ache between my legs. I was throbbing now, desperate for his touch, and needing to come. I felt his hands on my hips, pulling me to the very edge of the table, then slipping down to my ankles, pushing them further back and out.

He sat in the chair, his face between my thighs, and I heard him take a deep breath.

"Fuck, you smell good, baby," he groaned. "And look at you," he teased. "So ready for me." He ran a fingertip between my legs. "Pink... and swollen... and _slick_."

He had barely touched me, and I was already squirming on the table.

"Still yourself, Isabella," he warned. "Or I'll walk away. You know I'll do it."

I couldn't see him, in my current position, but I could hear the tone of his voice, and I knew that he meant it. He wouldn't _want _to walk away, to stop, but he would if he needed to. It had happened before, more than once.

I took a deep breath and held still.

"That's my girl," he said, his hand stroking my leg, reassuring me that he was still pleased with me. And then I felt him... his warm breath, his soft lips, his wet tongue. He was moving slowly, deliberately, barely touching me, and it was driving me insane. I spread my hands on the table, trying to hold onto something, scraping my fingernails against the wood until my hands were clenched tightly into fists. It took all of my willpower to hold my body motionless.

He grabbed my thighs and slowly pushed them back, opening me further, and I felt his tongue travel from my very bottom, up through my wetness, and then circling my clit.

I moaned loudly, unable to control myself, wanting to scream dirty words in the quiet hotel room, telling everyone what he was doing to me and how he made me feel.

But I squeezed my lips tightly shut, swallowing my words.

He was making the most delicious sounds as he teased me with his tongue, and I was close to coming already. It had been a long day, and he had been tormenting me since the moment I woke up that morning.

"You taste so good, baby," he moaned. "Let me hear you, Isabella," he directed, then pressed his mouth between my legs, hard, his tongue deep inside me, fucking me. I moaned loudly, but he wanted more, and he sucked my clit into his mouth, pressed tightly between his lips, his tongue flicking it back and forth.

"Oh, _fuck_!" I screamed, "Yes, please... oh _please_, don't stop, Master," I begged. He had just started, and I was begging already. I felt one of his hands leave my thigh, and then his long, slender finger slid inside me, pressing and twisting. He increased the pressure and movement on my clit, and the combination of sensations brought me quickly to the edge. I knew I couldn't hold out much longer, and I really didn't want to fail him.

"Master, _please_... I'm so close... so close... I'm going to... oh _fuck_, please!"

Then, his hands were gone, his mouth was gone, his tongue was gone. And I was panting, trying to catch my breath, my head spinning, trying to keep up.

"Not yet, my love," he chuckled beneath me. "That one on the plane was an easy one. I have something I want to do first."

He grabbed my hips, lifting me off the table, and flipped me over until my stomach was pressed into the wood. His hands held my thighs and pulled me open, slamming into me in one long, hard motion.

I screamed, words escaping me as he started to fuck me. I lifted my head, needing to see him, to see his expression, his beautiful face, and I watched our reflection in the mirrored window. He was stunningly beautiful in his need, a grimace on his face, dripping in sweat, brow furrowed. He was holding my hips and pulling me back to him, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He grunted and moaned, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from him.

Finally, he looked up, and our eyes met in the window. He grinned at me.

"Can you see out the window, Isabella?" he said between pants and thrusts. "Can you see all those people out there watching you? All I can see is our reflection, but I think someone is out there, right now, looking at you."

I closed my eyes, unable to stop myself from imagining what he was saying. That maybe someone in the next building was sitting in the dark, watching what he was doing to me. I was naked and spread open on the table, and he was fucking me from behind, pounding into me mercilessly, and the thought that some nameless person might see us was thrilling.

"How did it feel today, Isabella, hmm?" he asked. "How did it feel to have my plug in your ass, slowly fucking you all day long?"

His fingers played between the cheeks of my ass, lightly stroking and circling my entrance, and I moaned softly, biting my lip to try to keep quiet.

"I want to hear you, Isabella," he ordered. "Don't hold back."

I starting shaking my head, finding it difficult to form words as he moved his cock inside me, his fingers exploring between my legs.

"Don't tell me no, Isabella," he growled. "Don't _ever _fucking tell me no. You can fucking tell me _red_, but never tell me no."

"But, _Master_," I gasped. "They'll hear us. Next door. The suites next door."

He shook his head and chuckled.

"No, my lovely," he said with a grin, his hips never stopping. "No, they won't." He smiled and laughed some more. "I bought the suites on either side, pretty girl. They're empty." He grabbed my hips, hard, and plunged his cock deep within me. "You can be as loud as you want. And I want to fucking hear you."

"Oh, God," I moaned. I couldn't hold it in any longer, and with his permission, I started to scream with each thrust, holding the edge of the table to brace against his strokes. I could feel his hand on my thighs, pulling me up just a little, and then he pushed even deeper, fucking me harder.

"Oh, God, _please _Master!" I screamed. "Please let me come, please, _please_," I muttered. "I'm so close, so close... oh please."

It seemed as if he didn't hear me, that he wasn't listening. He just watched our reflection in the window.

"Fuck, look at us, Isabella," he said in that thick, deep voice. I squeezed my eyes closed and tightened myself around his cock. "Open your eyes, and fucking _look _at us!"

I lifted my head and looked at the window, locking my eyes with his.

"Watch me fucking you, Isabella."

He said it so quietly. He knew that I was listening to every word, watching his face, and I did as he asked.

He pushed me back down on the table, one hand in the middle of my back keeping me in place, the other on my calf, bending my leg at at the knee, spreading me open for him.

"Oh, fuck, _yes_," he groaned. "You look so fucking good like this, baby... so fucking open." His pace increased, his cock moving deeper and harder inside me in this position. "I love fucking you like this."

His fingers pressed deeply into my flesh, pulling me into him, and I should have felt pain, but all I could feel was how much he wanted me.

"I'm close, baby," he growled. "So fucking close... yes. I want you to come for me now, sweet girl. Can you do that for me, baby?"

"Oh God, yes, Master, _yes_!" I screamed, and he slid a hand beneath me, his fingers pressing on my clit, making slow circles, matching the thrusts of his hips. He grabbed my clit between his fingers, pinching steadily, and slowly rubbed from side to side.

And I fell, _hard_. Over the edge, screaming, no words. I was speechless, my body electrified, tingling, throbbing, gasping for breath. My bones turned soft, my muscles limp.

I laid there, panting and sweating, and I realized that he was still fucking me. I could still feel his fingers pressed into my hips, pulling and pushing with each stroke. I lifted my head and watched him in the window reflection.

He was so close, I could tell. I knew what he looked like right before he came, and he was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his neck, under his shirt collar, the shirt he never took off.

He groaned loudly and pressed into me hard, holding himself there for a moment, and I could feel it, feel him coming inside me. His cock was twitching, but he was still moving, very slowly, as he continued to come.

Finally, he stilled, collapsing on top of me, the fabric of the shirt rubbing on my back. I could feel the buttons pressing into my skin, making tiny marks.

He kissed my neck, softly, his hand stroking the skin of my arm.

"Baby," he whispered in my ear, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. "God, I love you... so fucking much."

He lifted up from me, pulling away, and I could feel his come leaking out of me, running slowly down my thighs. He grabbed my hips and lifted me up, turning me around so that I was sitting on the table in front of him.

He stood before me, standing between my legs, and he took my face into his hands.

He kissed my forehead, softly, reverently.

"Perfect."

He kissed my chin.

"Lovely."

He hissed the tip of my nose.

"Beautiful."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This was the business trip, part I. There will be a part 2, but you know how slowly I write, so please be patient with me. :)**

**Thank you to everyone who gently prodded me since my last update, asking when I was going to post again. I really do love hearing from you. So please, don't stop. :)**

**Sorry for the thing with the strawberries – I know it was a little trite and overused, but once I wrote it, I couldn't take it out. So please forgive me, and I hope you didn't roll your eyes too much.**

**Thank you, MaBarberElla, for calling me every so often, not just to talk, but so that I can look at that superhot pic of Rob that I have as your caller ID pic. Ha! And thanks for instantly **_**getting **_**why that pic of him with the black shirt just DID it for me. :)**

**And thanks, as always, to my best friend and amazing beta, LibbyLou862 for TRULY being an excellent beta. It's not as important to everyone - grammar, punctuation, spelling, tense - but it's REALLY important to us, and I love that she takes it as seriously as I do.**

**And extra special thanks for her for giving me the BEST early birthday present ever... SO MUCH FUN! I love you Libby!****Until next time...**


End file.
